


Love is Blindness (I Don't Wanna See)

by bastilas



Series: The Great Shipwreck of Life [1]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: (kinda), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Newt Scamander, Betrayal, But also, Dark Original Percival Graves, Dubious Morality, Established Relationship, Falling Out of Love, Happiness to come later?, Heavy Angst, M/M, Manipulative Gellert Grindelwald, Minor Character Death, Minor Queenie Goldstein/Jacob Kowalski, No Grindelwald (Until The End), Sad Newt Scamander
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-01-18 22:51:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 32,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12397878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bastilas/pseuds/bastilas
Summary: Arriving back in New York after three months abroad, excited to be reunited with Percival, Newt soon finds out everything has changed in his absence. Percival is strange; he cries out in his sleep like a man tortured, he’s distant, and he keeps disappearing at night claiming work is keeping him busy.Nothing can prepare Newt for the dark truth of it all.





	1. Love is Clockworks and Cold Steel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was mostly inspired by the song Love is Blindness (in whichever version you prefer, ie: The Damn Truth, Jack White, or of course the original: U2). Graves' characterization was also partly inspired by the fic [Mistakes.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9080638/chapters/20648290) It's definitely one of my favourite Gradence fics, so go check it out!
> 
> Also, four things to make clear:  
> 1\. This takes place just before the events in the movie (and I'm not going to rehash the movie, don't worry)  
> 2\. This is not a story about cheating, although it may seem like that at first  
> 3\. This is 100% the original Graves the entire time  
> 4\. I skewed the time-line a bit: Jacob already has his bakery and has met Queenie

_November 2nd, 1926_

Standing in New York again for the first time in months is jarring. Instead of leaves rustling in the breeze, or birds chirping happily, there's the screeching of cars braking in the streets and a constant hum of chatter. And yet, all the same, New York's like a second home to him. It's where Percival lives, it's where they fell in love.

_It's where Percival’s nowhere in sight._

Newt holds his coat close to himself. It's extremely cold for early November; the fabric does nothing to protect him from the harsh and unforgiving wind nor does it keep out the icy snow that gets everywhere, turning his skin a light pink. He shivers, discreetly casting a warming charm upon himself.

Taking a look at the large crowd of muggles, he wonders where Percival is. In their last exchange of letters, Percival agreed to meet him at the docks. He always waited for Newt right outside, easily visible in a crowd of muggles. But the crowd dissipates quickly. The muggles want to be inside and sheltered away from the nasty weather immediately ー Newt can't blame them for it when a particularly harsh gust of wind batters his face. Not even a warming charm can buffer away the cold snow.

Newt stands in the wind for a while longer, trying not to notice as he loses the feeling in his fingers, the cold stinging them and turning them numb.

Percival should be here. He never misses Newt coming back to New York, always excited to be reunited with him after a long time apart. This has been the longest Newt's been awayーthree months spent in South America studying the multitude of magical creatures undocumented and hidden away in the lush Brazilian jungles.

He'd been unable to correspond with Percival through letters the entire trip up until he was on a ship heading back to New York.

Percival would've made mention in the letter if he had a case keeping him busy.

Newt rubs his hands together in an attempt to get some feeling back, treading across the street, feet leaving behind indents in the snow, so he can apparate away to his and Percival's apartment.

Something is wrong but can't put a finger on it.

Groping his case tightly, he apparates home.

_________

The apartment is the same as always; neatly kept, thanks to Percival, but the blanket that's never folded up remains a mess on the couch, the only part of the apartment that remains Newt’s. It's sparsely decorated, with only a few photos of Newt's family that sit on the side table. The door to the bedroom is closed ー which is unusual. It's always swung fully open.

Newt sets his case down gently beside the counter, unwrapping his scarf from his neck and unbuttoning his coat, placing them on the crowded coat rack.

He inches closer to the door with confusion.

"Percival?" He calls softly.

No response.

It's odd, normally Percival isn't at work on the weekends unless there's a particularly important case that requires his attention. And during the weekend, he still wakes up early in the morning, not one for sleeping in.

Newt knocks on the door lightly. When Percival doesn't say anything, he opens the door carefully, so as not to wake him up.

And sure enough, Percival is sleeping on his stomach, clutching his pillow to his chest tightly. His hair is in complete disarray, and he's sweating. Newt can see it glistening on his bare back ー but Percival's apartment is kept cool ー Newt can't help but wonder why he’s sweating. Percival doesn't even stir at the sound of Newt's footsteps causing a creak from the hardwood floor. He frowns, worry overtaking him.

"Percival?" He calls again, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Percival groans in his sleep, turning over to his side. Slowly, dark eyelashes flutter open, taking Newt in with confusion and apprehension, becoming aware of the waking world around him one blink at a time.

"Whaー Newt? What's..." Suddenly, Percival jolts up, blankets falling into his lap as he stares open-mouthed at Newt.

"Just how late did you stay up?" Newt asks with a smile, happy to be faced with his lover for the first time in months.

"Iー what time is it? I was supposed to come to the docks, oh Merlin, I'm so sorry."

"I figured you must've been off doing work or something. Don't worry, I didn't wait too long. It seems like you had quite the late night doing... what? Paperwork?" Newt laughs.

Percival doesn't laugh. He doesn't even respond back with a smile.

Any humorous part of the situation dies away when Newt catches the look of blank confusion and bewilderment that crosses Percival’s face, so unlike the stern and sturdy man Newt’s come to know.

"Are you alright?" Newt finally asks.

"I'm fine, just... tired. Couldn't get to sleep last night. Though, I wasn't counting on sleeping in. What time is it?"

"Closer to Noon."

Percival's eyes dart around the room like he's trying to process all that's happening. He pushes his hair out of his face, and with it, his composure comes back slowly.

"I'm so sorry, Newt.”

Newt waves a hand in dismissal. "You’re clearly tired. It's nothing some tea won't fix."

"I'll go make some and you can tell me all about your trip."

"Good idea. And you should make yourself some coffee in the meantime, sleepy."

Finally, a small smile tugs across Percival's face, but even this one is reluctant. Inwardly, the worry from earlier has yet to relinquish its cold grip on his heartーPercival's odd behaviour isn't quite explained by going to sleep at a late time. He's come home extremely late from the office plenty of times, only having an hour or so of sleep due to it, and woken up fine.

Though, Newt says nothing more.

He leans into Percival’s space and closes his eyes, connecting their lips while he moves to place his hand behind Percival’s head, bringing him closer.

Percival reacts instantly, moving his lips against Newt’s and deepening the kiss. They separate and Newt moves further onto the bed, shifting so that he's in a position where he's straddling Percival. "I missed you so much," Newt whispers, then leans in with renewed fervor, licking into Percival's mouth. Percival kisses him back with equal ferocity, exhaling deeply against him when they have to break. He puts his hand on Newt's back to bring their bodies together. Newt smiles into their kiss, enjoying the feeling of Percival against him after all this time. Traveling tends to get very _lonely_ after three months.

Percival moves his hips upwards and Newt groans. Heat stirs in his groin. 

He pulls back, moving away from Percival. 

Newt's still concerned ー and they have plenty of time for this sort of activity later.

Percival blinks up at him, curious as to why Newt moved away so suddenly.

“Come on,” Newt says, gesturing to the door. “You need to get dressed. And you have morning breath,” he laughs.

Percival gives a small smile in return. He shucks the heavy comforter off his legs, clad only in his underwear as he makes his way to the kitchen.

Newt follows, allowing his tensed up muscles to finally relax as he sits at the polished table. He's home finally. Three months of away having truly taken its toll; he's never been wearier upon returning. The struck familiarity of it all strikes him with warmth; Percival calmly brews tea and coffee at the same time, standing in the same room as him, not millions of miles away in another country. The paintings decorating the plain wall smile at Newt, and he doesn't have to worry about his own safety for even a second now in the comfort of home.

Percival hums in satisfaction once the kettle starts whistling in a shrill tone. He pours out the boiling water into a cup, then places a tea bag inside the steaming water.

Newt contently watches him for the time being.

Next, Percival pours the rest of the water for himself, brewing his coffee, hesitating at the sugar, then leaves it, bringing the cups over to the table for them. Newt finds his eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

"Don't you normally put some sugar in? Or milk?"

Percival places the beverages down shakily, withdrawing his hands quickly. "I'm feeling like a bit of a change today," he says.

Newt stares at Percival’s jittery hands that he tries to hide by clasping then in front of himself.

"Percival, please, did something happen yesterday?"

"No. Just the usual investigations and paperwork."

Newt looks pointedly at his clasped hands. "What I'm trying to ask, isー are you okay...?"

Percival nods, taking a sip of his coffee, just barely resisting making a face. "I just need to wake up a bit more. Nothing some coffee won't help with. But that's enough about me. How was your trip?"

Newt resists the urge to frown. Whatever's going on, Percival clearly doesn't want to talk about it ー so Newt drops it. Just for then.

"My trip went well," Newt starts hesitantly, not quite ready to let Percival off the hook. "I ended up spending a lot of time in my case; Frank finally trusts my company now. I also studied animals up close that most people have never dared go nearーthere's a lot I have to write about for my book now."

Setting his coffee down, Percival smiles at Newt. "I'm glad to hear it," he says genuinely, finally appearing at ease in Newt's presence.

Newt notices the slight difference in his posture ー he can't help but wonder what in the world he said to make Percival relax so.

Newt, however, loves to speak about his creatures, and he figures Percival likes to hear about them too if it causes him to relax so much; they spend the next hour or so simply catching up. Despite Newt being away for three months, Percival insists he missed next to nothing. Apparently, criminal activity is steadily rising and Percival is dealing with politicians more and more when he has spare time.

"I've heard about Grindelwald being sighted in America. I thought your office would be in a panic about it," Newt admits.

"What?" Percival asks in surprise. He quickly wipes the shock away, switching it for a neutral expression. "They're only that: rumours. The public likes to make up tales to give themselves something to talk about."

"Oh. I thought so. I was just wondering."

"Not to worry, we'd know if Grindelwald stepped on American soil," Percival reassures him.

Eventually, Percival leaves the room to wash up, so Newt takes their cups to the sink in order to wash them, stopping in confusion. In the porcelain basin is a couple of unwashed cups that all reek of alcohol. In fact, some dirty dishes dot the kitchen. Not enough to make the kitchen seem a mess, but enough to concern Newt.

Percival is anything but unclean.

Nonetheless, Newt cleans the crumb ridden dishes with a wave of his wand, more perplexed than ever.

Each and every anomaly is starting to paint a dark picture Newt can't quite make sense of. He knows something has happened that Percival isn't telling him about. And it hurts, because they share everything with each other.

Later, when Percival emerges from the bathroom with his hair still dripping, they share each other's company in silence, content to simply be together again. Percival reads while Newt scribbles in his notebook.

"Would you like to go out for dinner tonight?" Newt asks suddenly.

"I have business to attend to," Percival tells him, not looking up from the book.

"Why didn't you mention that earlier?"

"Do I have to spell out my entire schedule for you?" Percival asks, uncharacteristically irritated.

"Well, no... but it would've been nice if you told me."

Percival sighs, finally placing his book down on the dark coffee table. It's the same one he'd been reading prior to Newt's adventure in South America, and it looks like he's only progressed a chapter or two further.

"I can't cancel it," Percival states, sounding sorry.

Everything about the day has just been so _different_ than he'd imagined it going. Newt thought he'd receive a warm welcome home, spend half the day curled up in bed with Percival, and that they'd maybe go out for dinner. He hadn't imagined this.

Seeing as Percival is more interested in staring at the wall than he is in Newt, he decides to pay his creatures a visit.

They're always happy to see him, no matter the situation.

"I'll be down in my case for a while. Tell me when you're leaving for...?"

"There's a case that needs to be dealt with tonight."

"Right, tell me when you're leaving," Newt asks.

Percival bows his head in acknowledgment, which is enough of an answer for Newt.

Newt's creatures, it turns out, are very enthused to see him again, despite being visited by him earlier that same day. He loves them all, even if some aren't there to stay permanently. He feeds them and cares for them before returning to writing his book. The ministry will be expecting a manuscript from him soon, and he has so much to fill in from his trip.

By the time he's written a few pages, Percival makes an appearance inside, dressed in one of his dozens of impeccable suits. The one he's wearing is a new one; it has red trimming on the outside. It's a rather fetching look.

"I'll see you later tonight," Percival tells him. "It's just a routine check-up, nothing too dangerous."

It doesn't quite reassure Newt, but he trusts Percival to protect himself. He's the Director of Magical Security for a reason, after all.

"Be safe," Newt calls after him.

Percival doesn't reply back.

Hours and hours later, when Newt is in their bed trying to keep his eyes open and glancing at the clock, worry seeps in. It's four AM and Percival has yet to come home.

Newt, against his own wishes, ends up falling asleep.

__________

The strange new distance that grew between them in Newt's absence grows more and more obvious as the days pass by. He keeps noticing odd things about Percival; things that worry him. At night Percival cries out in his sleep like a man tortured, he drinks in the evening when he once said he'd never do so, and to make it worse, he keeps disappearing at night, claiming to be working.

But his work had never kept him until five AM almost consistently.

Sometimes it's as though Percival walks around wearing a strange mask, hiding away. All the changes don't add up, and there's an unspoken splinter in their relationship Newt desperately wants to fix. He wants to feel warmth blooming through him when Percival kisses him, he wants the reluctant laughter dragged out him after a joke, he wants to feel love spread through him at seeing Percival return home.

Instead, this new Percival, this imposter, won't tell him what's wrong, he stays out at work all night, leaving Newt in their apartment by himself alone. Again.

Newt's never felt so lonely - even when he was away he at least felt comforted that he would have Percival to return to.

So after the fifth lonely night, Newt can't take it anymore.

He grabs his coat and scarf off the rack, sick of being pent up in the overly sanitized and utterly impersonal apartment, leaving for the cold streets of New York in search of something, _anything_ , that will entertain him, that will keep the sickening loneliness from overtaking him.

He spends a lot of time simply observing the muggles in their strange automobiles, going about their evening business.

The irony of it all is that he's in a city filled to the brim with people, yet he's felt more lonely.

Gentle flakes of snow fall from the grey sky, swaying as they come down. Children run and laugh in the streets, sticking their tongues out, hoping to catch a flake.

Newt can't help but wish to feel so whimsical.

The streetlights eventually begin to turn on, and he no longer knows where he is. He doesn't know where he wants to go either. He just needs to be away for a time or he'll go crazy.

He finds himself on a busy street suddenly, where muggles bustle about. Some lady on the street is screeching about witches in New York. Newt watches her with a detached curiosity and fear, absorbing her hateful words unknowingly directed at him. Behind her stands a boy who looks to be freezing on the chilly November day, with only a light jacket to ward off the winds. Two younger girls stand beside him, bundled in on themselves. Sympathy wells up in him, but he forces himself to move onwards.

So far his small adventure around New York has yielded nothing. If anything, the loneliness grows stronger.

Eventually, he stops in at a muggle bakery, just before its closing time. A portly man stands at the front, smiling at him.

"Good evening," he greets.

Newt's the only customer in the cozy bakery aside from a brunette woman off to the side and some old man in the corner. At least the air is warm; the windows are fogged up and it smells of fresh pastries.

"You look like you've had a trying day. What can I get you, fella?"

Newt stares at him for a moment, rather disoriented. "I..." He looks at the glass case with little food left remaining. "A croissant," he says without thinking. In fact, he's not even sure if he's hungry, but the muggle just nods.

"Sure thing!" He says happily. He takes care in picking up the croissant, putting it on some nice, sheer wrapping paper and a plate. "That'll be nine cents."

Newt digs around his pocket for the muggle money he desperately hopes he hasn't misplaced. It would make for a rather uncomfortable situation if he turned out an empty pocket.

Finally, he digs out a quarter. He hands it to the baker. "Please, keep the change," he says, smiling. He doesn't really need the muggle money anyways.

The baker takes the quarter with wide eyes and an ecstatic smile. He pushes the plate forward to Newt. “Thank you very much,” he says. “And enjoy.”

Newt takes the croissant, sitting down at a table near the brunette woman who is picking away not so delicately at her food, reading... The _New York Ghost_? She's a witch. The newspaper paper is spelled to look like its Muggle counterpart.

Newt slumps in his seat, looking at the absent chair across from him where Percival should be sitting.

He eyes his croissant, wishing it could eat itself, before realizing it would be rude to leave it untouched. He picks up a few pieces but nothing substantial. He doesn't know why he even bothered to come into the bakery in the first place — he's not hungry.

But the croissant does taste heavenly.

Once he's almost finished it, the witch at the other table folds up her newspaper, tucking it in her arm and shouldering on her grey coat.

She makes her way to the exit but stops right beside him.

"Mr. Scamander?"

And apparently, this witch knows him, even if he doesn't know her.

"Y-yes?" He asks, caught entirely off-guard by her. But now that he takes in her appearance, she seems just the slightest bit familiar with her short dark hair and brown eyes.

"I'm sorry, it's just, I used to see you around the office all the time. I didn't know you were back in New York," she states with a sort of melancholy he can't make meaning of. "It's nice to see you," she adds.

 _Oh_ , he realizes. She's one of Percival's aurors.

Before his trip, he often visited Percival at work during lunch and such. The aurors were positively fascinated by him, claiming Graves never had an interest in anyone before. Newt got on well with most of them — aside from the ones who were weirded out by his profession. But he hasn't visited Woolworth building for months, and he hasn't wanted to ever since Percival started acting so strangely.

"I'm sorry, I'm not entirely sure we've met before."

"I'm Tina. Tina Goldstein. And don't worry Mr. Scamander, I've only ever seen you around. Just thought I'd say hi."

Newt smiles politely at her, trying his best to keep eye contact with her. "Well, it's nice to have met you, Ms. Goldstein. I'm sure I'll see you around sometime."

She smiles back, but the same odd sadness from earlier dilutes it. "Have a good night," she says.

As she pushes on the door to leave, he jumps. He just wasted a very good opportunity to ask a question about the late night 'auror business' Percival has been up to.

"Wait!" He calls after her, standing up.

She pauses at the door, letting it close so as to keep the bakery warm. The old man and the baker are now watching Newt, and he wills himself to look Tina in the eyes.

"I was wondering... is the department very busy right now, as in working overtime and such?" He inwardly cringes at the implications the question carries, but he needs to know.

"I..." Tina hesitates, "I wouldn't know," she looks down at her shoes in shame. "I'm with the Wand Permits Department now," she admits quietly, looking back up tentatively.

"Oh. Well, thank you for your time," Newt says, pushing the door open for her.

She nods and thanks him, off to wherever her next destination is.

Newt supposes it's time to head home. The baker looks like he's ready to close up shop and the old man in the corner is half asleep.

"Thank you," Newt tells the baker, then leaves as well.

He apparates back to Percival's apartment, hoping the man himself will finally be home and not out on another case. But sadly, he has no such luck. The apartment might as well be his for how little Percival seems to be home nowadays.

Newt spends the rest of the night in his case with his creatures ー his only company.

_____________

Somehow, Newt finds himself back at Kowalski's Baked Goods in the evening again. If he's honest, the croissant had been delicious. He just hadn't been hungry at the time. But now he finds that his stomach is growling and the cherry strudels are looking especially appealing.

Mr. Kowalski, the man he met last time, _the owner_ , he's now found out, recognizes him from the previous night. He greets Newt with a large smile that Newt sends back.

The bakery is more crowded than last night, but still, there is room left to sit, as it's evening. He sits at the same spot as yesterday, taking out his manuscript, deciding to get some work done.

Only minutes later, Tina and a blonde lady walk in. Tina and the woman's eyes are up at the front, on Mr. Kowalski, and they don’t notice him sitting in the corner. Instead, they greet Mr. Kowalski with extreme familiarity. The blonde woman even flirts and giggles with him, getting up in his personal space as though they've known each other for ages.

Newt frowns at the sight. Mr. Kowalski is a muggle, as far as he knows. Not that he would do anything in the case he is a muggle. Rappaport's Law is rather backward as far as he's concerned.

Newt decides it doesn't matter, going back to writing. Eventually, there's the scraping of the chair across from him being pulled out, and he finally pulls his nose out from his book. Standing above him is Tina, who promptly takes a seat across from him, also eating a strudel.

"Ms. Goldstein?" He blinks, confused.

"It's nice to see you here again," she says.

"I liked the food," he admits, abashed, setting his pen down on the table. He hadn't expected to see her again, but finds he doesn't mind much. Her company is much appreciated after a couple of days of seeing Percival for an hour or two at most.

"It is very good, isn't it? I come here after work a lot, just to wind down. You should try the biscuits, sometime. They're my absolute favourite."

He smiles. "Will do."

Up at the front, Mr. Kowalski and the blonde laugh loudly. He can't help but turn and look at them.

"That's my sister, Queenie," Tina explains. "She's really stuck on him."

And Newt can see that. She's always leaning into Mr. Kowalski's space, her face lighting up with glamorous smiles while Mr. Kowalski is flustered by her attention.

"Is he a muggle?"

"A what?" Tina asks.

"A no-maj?" Newt corrects himself.

"Oh. Yes, he is," she says, then rushes to add on: "I'm sure nothing will ever come of it though. It's just harmless flirting."

"It's okay, Ms. Goldstein, I've never really believed Rappaport's Law is proper, much to Percival's disdain." They'd argued about it countless times, never reaching a conclusion with each other. They shared many beliefs, but Percival always maintained Rappaport's Law was necessary.

"Just call me Tina. And... I feel the same way," she admits quietly. "It's the reason I work in wand permits now."

"I'm sorry about that."

"Don't be. It's over and done with now," she says. But the sadness she carries in her eyes says otherwise.

Now he finds himself wondering if Percival himself demoted Tina. It causes Newt to tense up, before remembering Tina freely came and sat down with him, starting a friendly conversation. But their chatter soon dies down, dissolving into a somewhat awkward silence. Newt isn't good at making small talk or upholding conversations, often relying on others to keep it going. When Tina says nothing more he feels the need to look down at his plate rather than at her, unsure of what to say or do next.

Tina's sister, Queenie, has finally stopped laughing at Mr. Kowalski. Instead, she makes her way over to his table, plopping down beside her sister.

"Who's this, Teenie?" She asks.

"This is Newt Scamander," Tina introduces him with a wave of her hand.

Queenie glances over him, and he gets the feeling she's reading him. It's rather intrusive.

"Nice to meet you," he smiles politely.

Queenie gives him a beautiful smile in return.

"It's nice to meet ya too, honey."

For the next fifteen minutes or so he manages to keep up a conversation with the sisters. Queenie mostly leads them in topics, and they discuss what they do for a living and what they're currently caught up in. Queenie is absolutely fascinated by Newt's career, which is refreshing compared to the usual disdain he receives.

But it's getting later into the night and Newt finds himself hoping against all odds that Percival might actually come home early that night.

And if he doesn't... well, Newt will manage. At least he's met and talked to people today.

Merlin, that thought sounds pitiful even to himself.

"Oh, sweetie," Queenie suddenly coos, her attention directed at him. "Why don't you come over to our place for dinner sometime, hmm? I'd love to hear more about your adventures around the world."

"Queenie, don't do that," Tina chides.

And oh. Queenie is a legilimens. No wonder she kept the conversation up so steadily.

"I..." he hesitates, "I'd love to." He misses sharing a meal with people who care about him, he misses someone being interested in his career, and most of all, he misses interacting with other people.

The nature of his work means less interaction with people, but at some point, every human being needs to feel appreciated.

A large smile splits across Queenie's face, nearly lighting up the room with its intensity. "That's great! Does Thursday night work for you?"

"Yes," Newt says immediately. He doesn't have to think about it, as he has no plans set.

Tina gives him a small, sympathetic smile; like she's apologizing for Queenie. Newt doesn't understand why — he more than appreciates the offer.

"We'll see ya then?" She asks, buttoning up her silky pink overcoat.

"Around 6:00?"

"Sure!" Queenie exclaims.

Tina picks up their dirty napkins, depositing them into a trash can and shouldering on her coat. She then withdraws paper and a pen from her coat and writes something down. “This is our address,” she says, handing it to him. She and Queenie both smile and Newt, before leaving for the door.

"It was nice meeting ya, today, Newt," Queenie says.

"Bye Newt!" Tina waves.

Newt waves back at them then takes his coat off the back of the chair and he puts it on, leaving for Percival's empty apartment yet again.

__________

In the coming days, Newt finds himself looking forward to the Goldstein's dinner like he's never been excited about an event before. Each day passes by with him being woken up by Percival crawling into bed at some ungodly hour, spending half an hour with Percival at breakfast, caring for his creatures and writing, then wondering when Percival is going to come home from work, or if he even will this time.

Sometimes, Percival comes home from work at the proper time for an hour or two to spend time with Newt, but each time it's overshadowed by the fact Percival will be leaving again — that there's something wrong with Percival Newt can't quite put into words.

Wednesday is one of those such days. Newt sits in the living room, his attention consumed by a book, when Percival apparates inside, startling him.

"You're home?" Newt says in surprise.

"For a while today."

Newt finally allows a smile to cross his face. "Do you want dinner? I can make you something if you'd like."

"That sounds lovely, Newt. Thank you," Percival says. He sets his coat on the hanger, striding into the room. "How's your day been?"

"Alright," Newt replies, standing up from the couch and entering the kitchen. "Mostly spent it working on my book. But you seem like you've had a good day?"

Percival appears unburdened; with his easy smiles and relaxed posture, he's back to the way he was. The past week or so he's been so wound up, and Newt truly worries for him.

"Yes, today has been significantly less stressful than others."

Newt hums in acknowledgment, searching through the cupboards and icebox for food he could cook for them.

"How about pasta tonight?"

"I'd love some."

Newt sets about cooking while Percival changes into casual slacks and a simple white collared shirt.

"Have the cases died down now?" Newt asks as he stirs the water with his wand.

"No, but Picquery allowed me a reprieve today. I'll be out again later, but not for long."

"Promise you'll be back early tonight?"

"I promise," Percival says, smiling. He shows no indication that he's lying, and Newt feels grateful for it. He's missed Percival so much; loneliness had long since filled the void where he used to be.

"Oh, by the way, I'm going for dinner tomorrow. With some friends," Newt serves the spaghetti to them. He watches Percival carefully, almost as if he's expecting — or hoping — for him to show a sign of jealousy. Some sign that he cares Newt has gone out and found other people in the place of Percival's absent company.

"Some friends?" Percival asks carefully, not touching the food on his plate. His attention is directed solely at Newt now.

"Yes. I think you may know one of them. Tina Goldstein?"

This finally earns a reaction from Percival. "Ah, Goldstein," he visibly winces. "She's trouble, Newt. She got herself placed into wand permits by attacking a no-maj."

Newt can't help his lips parting in shock. When Tina said she didn't think Rappaport's Law was right, he didn't think she meant it quite in that way. And Tina seemed so nice? Surely she wouldn't do such a thing?

"Why would she do that?" He can't help but ask.

"She wanted to protect a no-maj boy. But attacking another no-maj is not the way to go about that, let alone legal in any way."

"Oh," is all Newt can say.

He doesn't know what to think about Tina Goldstein anymore. He's only met her twice and conversed with her very little, but from what he experienced, she and her sister are seemingly kind people.

Perhaps it'd been a misunderstanding?

Either way, Newt isn't looking forward to the dinner as much anymore. His excitement is diminished, doubts about it creep in; and he sinks into his chair, not wanting to touch his dinner.

"Goldstein isー _was_ ーa good auror. I don't know what went wrong exactly, but maybe it'd be best for you to skip dinner," Percival says, his dark eyes boring into Newt.

Suddenly, for the first time in forever, Newt is unnerved by him, because that felt like a warning.

It concerns Newt further than anything else has so far.

"O-Okay," he agrees, not meaning to stutter out his answer.

Percival sits back, satisfied by his answer, continuing on with dinner as though nothing happened. Newt does the same; soon enough, the night feels almost normal, and Newt forgets about the incident as he laughs along with Percival, happy to finally feel like he's come back home.

That's until Percival has to leave for work again.

Newt says goodbye, watching as Percival Apparates away, then he spends the rest of the time with his creatures and writing.

It begins to reach late into the night and Newt is half asleep at his desk, when he dutifully picks himself up and stumbles into bed. He eyes the empty side with a profound sadness he's never felt before. It's like the loneliness he experienced earlier — only deeper and more heart-rending, and it sinks into his very being, hurting inexplicably. Newt holds the blankets close to him as he stares at the other side of the bed, memorizing the way Percival's pillow still has impressions in it, and how the blanket falls flat where a body should be underneath it, absent of heat and steady breathing.

Newt falls asleep that way, pretending there aren't tears threatening the corner of his eyes, spilling down pale, freckled cheeks onto his pillow.

_________

At first, he feels movement beside him. He thinks it's Percival slipping into bed at a late hour, but then a whimper escapes Percival's throat. Newt realizes Percival is already in bed beside him.

He starts screaming shortly after. Screaming like every nerve of his is on fire, like he's fighting for his life against this invisible enemy that attacks him in his sleep. Not only does it break Newt's heart; it terrifies him. He bolts upright and Percival screams again, and Newt starts to shake him roughly, tearing him away from the anguish he's experiencing.

Percival begins to thrash out, hitting Newt squarely in the face. Newt nearly falls backward off the bed from the force of it, his nose aching fiercely. When he feels wetness coming from it, he lifts his hand up to it gingerly, blood staining his hand in drops, visible in the dim light coming from outside the window.

There's shifting beside him, then Percival sits up, his chest heaving in his panicked state, his eyes blown open like he's seen a ghost. And maybe he has, in his dreams. They certainly haunt him like a ghost does.

"You're hurt," is the first thing he says.

"It's nothing," Newt replies, picking his wand up from the bedside table. He conveniently ignores the blood that's all over the hand he uses to reach for it.

He points his wand at his nose and mutters: "Episky," then his nose is reset. The blood stops flowing. "See?"

Percival doesn't reply. Instead, he stares at the blood that no doubt covers the lower-half of Newt's face.

"And a cleaning charm is all I need," he flicks his wand, and the blood disappears. "I'm fine. But you… you've never had a nightmare like that, Percival."

Percival closes his eyes and runs a hand through his hair. "No, I haven't. I'm sorry I hit you, I never meant to... Lash out."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"You came back late again, does that have something to do with this?"

"No, Newt. Just drop it."

Newt frowns. "You said you'd come back early."

"We got caught up with more of Grindelwald's followers unexpectedly."

"You work all day and most of the night. This is far from healthy. If the president is making you do all of this, I'll have a word with her myself," Newt states, putting his wand back on the side table.

"No, she isn't forcing me. But it's necessary for the safety of this country."

Newt sighs, going under the covers again. "Just don't make promises you can't keep next time," he says. It's hard to keep the irritation and frustration out of his voice, and Percival picks up on it.

"I'm sorry. I really did try to come back early."

"Try harder next time," Newt mumbles against the pillow, closing his eyes. He's concerned for Percival, yes. But more so angry with him—if he won’t take the time to tell Newt about his nightmare, there’s no way to help him anyway. And at the moment, Newt just wants sleep to claim him so the raging storm of conflicting emotions in his head will leave him, if only for a short reprieve.

Percival doesn't reply to his remark either ー he just situates himself under the covers.

Inexplicably, this makes Newt even more upset.

___________

Percival is gone by the time Newt wakes up in the morning. There's pelting on the window, and Newt opens his eyes to see a heavy amount of rain hitting the glass pane.

 _It's one of those days_ , he figures.

He's never much liked the rain, always preferring the golden light of the sun to cloud cover. Rain just reminds him of dreary London, _dreary home_. One thing he much prefers about New York is how much more the sun shines compared to London.

Newt picks himself out of bed, stretching when he hits the floor. He doesn't put on proper clothes yet. He's too miserable to bother.

He tends to his creatures instead of making himself breakfast. His plans have all fallen through - Percival still won't admit anything is wrong and keeps avoiding questions, and there's no more dinner with the Goldstein sisters. He's rather put out about the latter; he found that he quite liked Queenie and Tina upon meeting them.

Then, while in the midst of feeding the occamies, he has an idea. One Percival wouldn't approve of, but he doesn't need Percival's approval ー not that he'd be around to give it anyway.

Deep down, Newt still wants to go to the dinner.

He knows Percival dislikes Tina, but he figures that it doesn't matter because Percival broke his promise to come home on time, so what does it matter if Newt goes back on his word and visits the Goldsteins?

He walks around feeding the rest of his creatures with a bit of a spring in his step, he spends nearly an hour agonizing over what to wear for the night, and continues on with his manuscript - though every minute or so he finds himself imagining what the Goldstein's apartment looks like, what they'll be eating for dinner, and the conversations they'll have. Time passes quickly this way, and soon enough he's fussing over his unruly hair in the mirror, trying to calm it down.

The address Tina gave him isn't far from Percival's apartment. In fact, it's so close that Newt doesn't mind walking there. He leaves extra early, taking care in wrapping his Hufflepuff scarf around his neck; while it isn't raining or any more, the November wind is still chilling in its ability to cut through fabric right to the skin. He casts a warming charm upon himself to help ward it off.

__________

Oddly enough, Tina stands outside, with her hair whipping around in the wind waiting for him. In the freezing cold. It's near complete dark outside and now chilly enough for it to snow. He finds himself concerned that she's standing huddled in on herself, hugging her grey coat tightly, out in the cold with no one else around.

"Tina?"

"Newt," she greets with a smile. She drops her arms from where they were held against herself, looking a lot warmer now that he's arrived.

"Why are you standing out here?" He asks, not quite looking her in the eyes. He feels guilty she stood outside waiting for him.

"We forgot to mention our landlady doesn't allow men in the building. I'll have to sneak you in."

For an auror, Tina seems to break rules quite a bit, Newt observes. Well, ex-auror, but his observation still stands.

"Tina, you don't have to sneak me in. We can do this some other time at a restaurant, orー"

"Don't worry about it," she assures. "Besides, Queenie's already cooked up a storm. She'd be disappointed if I sent you packing."

"A-alright then," Newt agrees, taken by surprise again by Tina and Queenie's kindness. The fact they're willing to break the rules for him doesn't fly over his head.

"I'm going to apparate us in, is that okay?"

"Absolutely."

Tina holds her arm out, taking care to watch for muggles on the street. Newt grabs her arm lightly and before he knows it, he's inside a small but cozy room; a welcome change from the razor sharp wind.

The Goldstein's apartment welcomes him with its warm colours, a crackling from the fireplace and its lived-in features. Everywhere he looks, there are homely possessions scattered about. There’s a coat lying overtop the couch, a couple of pillows tossed haphazardly on the armchair, pictures and nicknacks covering every surface, and a pink embroidered rug under the dining room table.

It's a stark contrast from his and Percival's apartment.

Over to Newt's right, Queenie stands above the stove where she's stirring something that smells absolutely delicious.

"Hi, honey!" She greets cheerily, a dazzling smile upon her face. Its intensity warms Newt; she's truly happy to see him again.

"Nice to see you," Newt says.

"Likewise! Tina wouldn't stop worrying about dinner all week, and now that it's out of the way, I'll stop havin' to hear her concerns every minute."

"Queenie!" Tina says, scandalized.

"What? Newt was thinking about it all week too. Now that we're all here, there's no need to worry."

"I-" Newt hesitates. "It's been awhile since I've been out to dinner with friends," he says by way of explanation.

"It's been a long time since we've received guests, so don't get in a twist about it," Tina says kindly, then gestures to the dining room table. "Go ahead and take a seat. I can take your coat too."

"Thank you," Newt says, unbuttoning his coat and handing it to Tina.

The table's already set with fine china and there are some chopped vegetables on a tray. They've put a lot of effort into the dinner, causing Newt to smile despite himself. He hasn't felt so welcomed in... forever, really. The last time he can remember, Percival first invited him to his home and ー no, he cannot think about that around Queenie. She doesn't make a remark about his thoughts, but he can feel his cheeks burning up nonetheless.

His thoughts are interrupted by Queenie placing down a chicken roast on the table, followed by a pot of pasta. It all looks and smells absolutely delicious, like the quality he'd expect to find at restaurants. Queenie must be an excellent cook.

"You're too kind, sweetie," she says, taking a seat across from him.

"It truly looks amazing," he repeats.

Tina, who sits at the head of the table, starts dishing herself out food, so Newt follows along, taking a healthy portion of everything.

"Queenie loves to cook. She took over cooking early on, when our parents passed, and she's been doing it happily ever since."

"Just wait until you see dessert," Queenie winks.

Newt smiles, taking a bite of the pasta and falling in love. Tina wasn't exaggerating when she said her sister loves to cook, because the food is a true reflection of that.

"So has life been busy for you, as a magizoologist?" Tina asks him.

"No, quite the opposite, in fact. I spend most of my time at home working with my creatures and writing."

"Writing?"

"Yes, the Ministry commissioned me to write a book that details magical beasts."

"Admittedly, they don't teach us much about them at Ilvermorny. I'd love to read it once you're finished, Newt," Tina says.

"I'll make sure to hand you a copy. But that's enough about me. How's MACUSA been lately? I haven't stopped in for a long time."

"Dreadfully boring!" Queenie chimes in. "For me, anyways. With all the strange magical disturbances going on, a lot of MACUSA's staff is away doing important business and whatnot, which leaves me with less to do. It's no wonder, but still..."

Newt jolts. "Magical disturbances? What magical disturbances?"

Queenie sets her fork down on her plate, staring at Newt. "You mean you haven't heard? It's all anyone talks about."

"No, I'm afraid I haven't been paying the paper much mind or even been outside much..."

Tina frowns. "I'm not part of the Investigative team anymore, but I've heard that even they don't know what's happening. Whole sections of no-maj buildings have been destroyed, almost like an explosion occurred — but there's magical residue so we know it isn't gas leaks like the no-majs seem to think..." Then, Tina switches thought. "You mean to say the Director has told you nothing about this?"

Newt shakes his head, wondering why in the world Percival hasn't mentioned it. It at least partly explains why he's been kept so busy — but even then staying out until five in the morning is excessive.

Tina's expression closes off into something unreadable, and he almost thinks he sees a glimmer of pity within her.

But why?

Percival's likely just been too busy to tell him or had assumed he'd already read about the incidents in the New York Ghost.

"Oh," Tina says quietly. "I'm sure his mind's probably just... caught up in everything."

"Probably. That happens to him often," Newt agrees. Although a tendril of doubt starts in his mind. There's something really off, but he can't place it.

The rest of the night carries on event-free, and dessert — pumpkin pie — is just as amazing as Queenie said it would be.

At the end of the night, when Queenie has disappeared off somewhere, Tina stops him on his way out, concern heavy on her face.

"Newt, there's something that I have to tell you. When you asked me if the office was very busy, I looked into it. I asked a few friends, and they told me that aside from the magical incidents, they're hardly busy."

There's a glint in her eye, one that tells him she knows. She knows something isn't quite right in his life — there’s empathy in her eyes — and he doesn't know how to respond, not now that she’s aware something is wrong in his life.

"Thank you, Tina, it means a lot," is all he says. "I'll see you around?"

She nods. "Just send an owl anytime. I'm sure Queenie would have to have another dinner."

"Will do," he says with a faint smile and sadness staining his heart. What she told him weighs heavily upon him, yet again spoiling his night because Percival _lied_.

________

Apparating home, Newt doesn't think about the lights that are already turned on, even though he turned them off or the coat that's already placed on the rack, even though it should be empty, too caught up with his swirling thoughts to give any of it notice. It's reminiscent days past, when he'd come home to Percival, who'd already made dinner, or was waiting for him in the living room.

"Where were you?!"

Newt jolts.

Percival stands in the hallway across from him, his face riddled with concern, and his eyebrows drawn together.

"I went to dinner."

"With the Goldsteins?"

"Is that a problem?" Newt asks, frowning.

"I don't control who you go out with, but I would've at least liked to know. I came home and panicked because you weren't here. There was no note, no anything!"

"That hardly matters when you're out every single night doing Merlin knows what!" Newt retorts. "Tina told me that the department isn't busy right now. You lied to me. Why? What's really happening?" Newt stands firmly in his place. He doesn't like confrontation much, and being questioned immediately upon coming home is rather disarming, but it has to be done.

At first, his mind jumped to thinking Percival was cheating on him, but he soon tossed that out the window. It hardly explained the nightmares and drinking.

He just wants the truth.

"Nothing is happening, the rest of the department doesn't share the work I have, and these times are trying what with Grindelwald supporters and magical disturbances going on."

More lies. Sure, it could be possible that Percival is extremely stressed, drinking to cope with it. But nightmares that cause him to scream and cry? Working nearly all day? It doesn't add up. Picquery had even sent Percival home a couple of times when he spent too much time at work. 'He's married to his work,' the aurors had remarked with surprise when their relationship first came out.

"Percival, tell me the truth! This can't keep going on! You're having terrible nightmares, you drink when you swore you never would before, and you disappear nearly every night doing 'auror work' but it's never kept you busy like this. Something happened while I was away, what is it? Did a case go terribly wrong? Just help me understand."

"It's nothing, I swear to you. The months you were away were tough ones, I saw many things that I don't think I could imagine in my worst nightmares; gruesome cases with terribly twisted dark wizards. And Grindelwald's followers are keeping us busy, that's all it is. While many of my subordinates are not busy, I am. It's not easy to keep an entire country safe from a madman, deal with politics on the side while managing an entire department and dealing with paperwork. Not to mention the magical incidents around the city — our threat meter’s never been so high. Not in hundreds of years."

Newt's mouth parts slightly in surprise. He truly had no idea it was that terrible at MACUSA. Then again, he doesn't read the paper and Percival never mentioned it in the first place. He's not even entirely sure if he believes Percival.

He knows that Percival is heavily invested in his job and that he considers it his absolute first priority in most cases, but still... Picquery would send him home if he was there too late, right? Unless she's also overwhelmed by it all and expects him to stay as well?

Newt doesn't know anymore, it's all a mess in his head and he doesn't know what to believe. He wants to think Percival is telling the truth, he really does, but if he's telling the truth, it means Wizarding America is in a truly desperate situation and Grindelwald is more of a threat than Newt originally thought.

Percival steps closer to him, placing both his hands on Newt's shoulder.

"Do you remember our first week together?" He asks suddenly.

"Yes?" Newt says, an eyebrow raised in question. "When that one wizard was on a killing spree with muggles?"

"Yes, and I had to cancel each and every date because we were so busy trying to catch him? It's like that all over again, only much worse."

Newt laughs slightly. "That was an impossible week. I thought you kept canceling because you changed your mind and you didn't like me."

Percival laughs too, for what must be the first time since Newt first got back. And Merlin did he ever miss seeing Percival smile. He thinks he could stare at him smiling all day.

But Percival suddenly pulls him in, connecting their lips for a kiss with a heat he hasn't felt in a while, not separating until they need air. Newt feels the warmth that was missing earlier has come back again, and he's finally happy to be in Percival's presence.

"I love you," Newt says quietly.

"I love you too. But Newt..."

Newt stills, not liking what's coming. "What?"

"I have to leave again tonight."

The warmth dissipates. Newt stands back, brushing away Percival’s touch.

"Again? Surely you can stay home tonight?"

"There was another incident yesterday, and there's still so much to clean up with the no-majs. I wish I could, but I can't."

Newt looks into Percival's eyes, seeing his intensity and the regret of having to leave, Newt can't stay upset, not when Percival's job means protecting the wizarding community. It's selfish to want him at home when people need Percival's help.

"I'm sorry," Percival says.

"It's okay. Just try not to come home too late this time."

"I can't promise you that."

"I know, but at least try."

"I will," Percival says mournfully, sidestepping Newt to get to the coat rack. He shoulders it on and then hangs his scarf around his neck, still regretfully watching Newt.

Newt, in the very least, is relieved to know what had been happening, and is secure in knowing it's all been a misunderstanding, one that could've been easily remedied if they communicated properly.

"See you later," Newt says mournfully.

Percival nods, then apparates away.

________

This time, Newt is not asleep when Percival comes home, despite the very late hour. He's lying on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket and his thoughts, not entirely aware of his surroundings, and off in another world. He doesn't hear the sound of apparition. It isn't until he picks up on the footsteps in the hallway when he's snapped out of it. He pushes the blanket off, slowly getting up from the couch.

Looking at the to clock on the wall, he sees the small hand pointing at the three. It's not quite as late as Percival normally comes home.

When he flicks on the lights on with a wave of his wand, Percival jumps slightly, rooted to the spot in the hallway. Immediately, a purplish-red bruise stands out boldly against his pale skin, situated near his cheekbone. Upon further inspection, there's blood staining the cuffs of his shirt, maring the otherwise perfectly kept white. His hands don't appear hurt, and neither do his arms. It's not his blood.

"You're hurt," Newt says quietly. He's rather in shock about it ー Percival's never come home injured before ー never even with a single mark on his skin.

Percival shifts side to side for a moment, lifting his hand up to his cheek. He wavers over the bruise, and with it, the mark starts to disappear before Newt's eyes, returning the skin to its regular pale hue.

"There was a surprise run-in with Grindelwald's followers tonight. They've always been secretive, so it came as a bit of a surprise that they took the fight to us."

"What about your shirt?" Newt asks. It's as though blood had been splattered onto it, and not Percival's blood.

Percival looks away from Newt temporarily to the floor, avoiding eye-contact. "It went sideways tonight. There were injuriesー I don't want to talk about it, please. Just for now."

Percival finally moves from where he stood, shedding the shirt as quickly as possible, moving past Newt with little regard. Newt's left empty, wondering just how terribly it all went for Percival to come away from it like this. But... there have been other times. Times when Percival had come home from a raid gone wrong and he'd been upset, of course, but never closed off. Not like this.

Percival stands at the counter, leaning against it, his head bowed, a prisoner to whatever thoughts are chaining him up.

Newt slowly moves over to him, placing a gentle and careful hand on his shoulder. Percival tears away from his grip as though he'd been burned.

"Percivalー"

"Please, not now. Just go to bed, Newt."

"If something went really wrong, you can tell me about it."

"Not. Now." Percival grits out.

Newt backs away slowly. He wants to help but he doesn't know how ー Percival's never been so short with him, or so upset. He leaves the room, allowing Percival to be on his own, like he asked, and heads to the bedroom reluctantly, his mind in a whirlwind.

Maybe an auror was badly injured? Maybe Percival made the wrong call? Newt doesn't understand ー it's so strange.

He lies in bed mulling over the possibilities, sleep unable to come to him. It takes Percival an hour to finally appear, and Newt just pretends to be asleep while Percival shifts around fitfully.

He remembers resolving to send a letter to Tina the next morning. Perhaps she can give him further insight if Percival is unwilling.

__________

_Dear Tina,_

_I'm sorry to be bothering you with this request, and I wouldn't be if I didn't consider it important, but I need you to check in with one of your friends from the Major Investigations Department again. I won’t state why, and I hope you understand; I need you to see if there'd been a run-in with Grindelwald's followers last night, and if some aurors got injured, etc. Anything about the night of November fourteenth._

_Again, I'm beyond sorry to be bothering you with this, but it's important._

_Newt Scamander_

__________

_Newt,_

_It's truly no bother to help you. I can tell this important. I checked in with my friend, and they mentioned an attack from Grindelwald's supporters last night. Though, it was just a brush with them, nothing more. No injuries were reported on either side and it was too minor to even make the papers. I also inquired about Director Graves, and they told me he left quite early that night, near midnight. I hope this helps?_

_Also, if you need anyone to talk to ever, Queenie and I are always around. You're not alone._

_Tina_

__________

With every sentence Newt reads, his heart begins to pound faster, threatening to overwhelm him. He couldn't begin to guess at the implications of what could truly be happening with Percival.

He thought that they finally reached a point where they came clean and there was only honesty between them, but that had been a lie too. Trying to get Percival to confess to anything is an uphill battle Newt isn't able to win, and Tina's insight can only help so much. He's at his wits end on what to doーnothing makes sense anymore and he's wading in an endless sea of truths and lies.

Newt sighs, lying his head down on his desk.

He thinks back to his first meeting with Percival, the one that sealed their fates together.

_It had been a long, blisteringly hot day in early June, a year and a half ago. Newt traveled all the way from England to New York, his first trip to America. He'd been to Canada, Mexico before, but never America._

_There were rumours. Rumours of MACUSA to ban magical creatures, and smuggling rings gathering up animals to make sure they could still profit when their business became entirely illegal. It had been one of Picquery's promises before coming into office to clear the streets of smugglers, and Newt knew better than anyone that a desperate criminal would never give up their business, they'd just dig their way deeper underground._

_He'd seen it before in other countries and was sure America would be no different._

_Through digging up rumours in the dreariest speakeasies New York had to offer, Newt came upon a whisper ー one about wizards breeding occamies and using their shells to profit hundreds of Dragots._

_And of course, Newt being Newt, he went to stick his head right in their business._

_A week following the whispers he heard, he found himself underneath New York in forgotten wizarding tunnels, dueling dark wizards to the best of his ability._

_Though, to ‘the best of his ability’, didn't always cut it. A wizard managed to counter his shield, sending a fierce spell in his direction ー by the fiery red look of it, a wicked slashing curse._

_Newt braced for the extreme pain he expected to feel only for another shield to spring up in front of him, this one powerful._

_Newt looked back to see in the dim light of the tunnels, a man stalking forward, his coat billowing behind him and his hand raised out in front of him. Wandless Magic, Newt realized. He'd been stricken with awe from the moment he laid eyes on his rescuer's commanding visage. But eventually, the awe wore off as the man came to stand beside him. Together they fought off the dark wizard in an unspoken truce, relying on each other to defend and attack. They made a rather good team, in Newt's opinion. They took the dark wizard out in a matter of seconds._

_"You just saved my life," Newt said, his breath came out in short bursts as he stared wide-eyed at the stranger._

_"And you were taking on Jack Callahan, one of MACUSA's most wanted gang bosses. What, exactly, made you think that was a good idea?"_

_Newt started. "I-I didn't know- I thought that this was just some everyday gang member. I-"_

_The man raised his hand, signaling for Newt to stop running his mouth. Newt's jaw clenched shut immediately. He didn't know what to think of the man who saved him ー he was rather imposingー and severe looking too, with the way his hair was styled in a perfectly neat undercut, not a strand out of place. Even his clothing stated he meant serious business. And yet, the look in his eyes was a kind one; there were no hard lines to his expression. In fact, he almost looked as though he was smiling at Newt._

_"It doesn't matter, for now, Mr...?"_

_"Scamander."_

_"Yes, well, Mr. Scamander, as much as I'd like to talk this through with you, my aurors are taking on the rest of the gang as we speak, and I'd prefer to be there helping them."_

_"I'm sorry for holding you up," Newt said._

_"You didn't, really. I'd been searching for Callahan for a while down here," the man said, then took off down the tunnel with a single-minded focus, not even waiting for a response._

_Newt took quick strides to catch up with him, wanting to reach the injured creatures as quickly as possible._

_"What are you doing?" The man stopped and sharply turned around, and Newt nearly took a step back from the intensity he could see in his eyes. It was then the sounds of yelling and spells became apparent to him; the other aurors were close by, and this man wanted to be there helping them. It was like his body was being pulled into the fight ー he kept glancing behind himself, not able to stand completely still, ready to take off at any time._

_Newt had to be quick about this._

_"I came here to help injured creatures, and I'm not leaving until I can."_

_His rescuer stared at him for a moment longer, his eyes narrowing before he nodded to himself quickly. "Okay. But stay close to me," he said. "Callahan's men are dangerous."_

_It was Newt's turn to stare. What? He almost asked. He thought he'd have to put up more of a fight than that, but the man just continued on in a hurry. Newt kept following him._

_"I heard about the damage he's done to magical creatures. It's terrible. I hope you'll be able to help us because we certainly don't have any experience with magical creatures in the city," he said as they continued to half walk and run to the fighting._

_Newt melted a little for his rescuer in that moment. There was no longer any reluctance in following along with him and fighting by his side as they reached where all the yelling came from. Then they took out the rest of the smugglers with a few other auror's help, rescuing the occamies who were in terrible condition. Newt took them in his case, making sure the aurors never found out what exactly his case contained. And thankfully, the aurors didn't even put up a fight when he took in the injured occamies._

_It was only later he found out that the newly appointed Director of Magical Security, Percival Graves, had been his rescuer, after being released from MACUSA authority. (Because apparently, it isn't appropriate to prop yourself in on an active investigation and fight dark wizards)._

_And, for some unnamed reason afterward, Percival Graves met with Newt outside Woolworth building, asking if he wanted dinner._

_Newt said yes._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ummmmmmmm i waited a month to post this because i was so nervous please be nice


	2. Love is Drowning in a Deep Well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt finds out more information, and _still_ , the picture isn't clear. Percival continues to deteriorate in front of his eyes — it feels like there isn't a damn thing Newt can do to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Believe it or not, I finished writing this entire fic a long time ago and I meant to have this chapter up nearly three weeks ago but nerves and life got in the way. Also, this is the chapter where this fic was meant to earn the 'E' rating, but I kept reading over my fic and the smut felt so out of place so I brushed over it and I'm changing the rating to M. Sorry if you were looking forward to that. 
> 
> Anyway, enough of me rambling, enjoy the chapter!

One more chance. That's all Newt's going to give Percival; give him one more opportunity to tell Newt what's happening before he puts a plan into motion.

They're sitting at the table, Percival with a cup of coffee and Newt with tea, when Newt works up the courage to question him, already knowing the outcome in his head.

"Percival, about Monday night..." Newt starts.

Percival looks up from the _New York Ghost_ , setting his cup down slowly. He's drawn up. Tense. His brows furrow as he gives Newt his undivided attention.

"Whose blood was it on your shirt?"

"I told you already. It was Davidson's," Percival states, expression unchanging.

At first, there's a pain in his chest, due to the fact Percival just outright _lied_ without so much as a flinch, but Newt has to taper down any reaction he wants to make. He knew this was coming, he knew Percival would avoid telling the truth. It hurts regardless. An emptiness fills him, as he sits back in his chair.

The plan is to follow Percival in order to see what's affecting him so terribly. It's not that Newt wants to do it, it's that he has to. He's worried about Percival and hurt, with nowhere else to turn but this plan. It won't be easy — Percival is a trained auror — but with the right spells, Newt knows it can be done. 

So he purses his lips. "Thank you for telling me. Have a good day at work." Newt stands up from his chair rather abruptly, causing it to squeak against the hardwood floor.

Percival frowns, blinking rapidly. "I'm sorry?" He says, confusion in his voice.

"I have to go tend to my creatures. Have a good day at work," Newt repeats.

He leaves the room as quickly as he can while trying to keep up the appearance everything is okay. Percival still stares at him like he's going to ask a question, but he lets Newt go.

Once Newt makes it to his case, he gives a great big sigh of relief.

But it only gets tougher from then on out.

___________

Newt plucks one of the niffler's favourite objects from his nest while he's preoccupied with some coins purposefully dropped on the ground. For whatever reason, the darned thing absolutely loves this tiny gold ring with an emerald embedded in it. He doesn't notice as Newt pockets the ring and heads upstairs with it, sneaking into the hallway while Percival is getting ready in the bathroom.

Newt places the ring in one of Percival's upper pockets that he's sure is never used, then pulls out his wand and taps the ring, placing a Disillusionment charm upon it just in case. Newt slips away to his case afterward. Percival is none the wiser.

If Percival won't tell him what's going on, then he's going to find out himself because nothing has been right since Newt arrived back in New York, and he's going to fix it all himself if that's what it takes.

___________

Evening reaches him sooner than he'd prefer, but he squares his shoulders and settles his coat on regardless, making sure to button up. Beside him, his niffler crawls around, on a search for the ring he's now noticed missing. And that's the handy thing about nifflers; they're excellent treasure hunters.

Newt casts a Disillusionment charm on both himself and the niffler, taking to the streets of New York.

With winter comes the early setting of the sun; meaning by the time most people finish their dinners, a blanket of darkness already covers the city. Only streetlights illuminate sidewalks in dull yellow light.

The light covering of snow dazzles, crunching under Newt's feet. His niffler makes little noise aside from the occasional sniff as he searches for his most prized treasure throughout the city.

Lucky for them, little to no muggles deign to be outside now that the conditions are unfavourable. Only the occasional automobile or two pass them by, their engines humming loudly. The wind, however, does not prove them lucky. It howls and tears at his hair, skin, and coat, chilling him to the bone.

His niffler leads him off into a lower-class neighbourhood where there aren't many streetlights or people around. When the niffler picks up speed, Newt casts a silencing charm around them, figuring they're close to wherever Percival is.

Newt himself has never been to this part of New York before, and he wonders what in the world Percival is doing here as well. He hopes to God he's actually here working and not... well, in truth, Newt doesn't know what to expect aside from Percival working. He doesn't allow himself to think over the numerous other possibilities.

The niffler picks up more speed, scurrying along so quickly Newt has to speed-walk in order to keep up. Suddenly, the niffler pauses, sniffing around. He looks up suddenly, nearly rounding the corner before Newt promptly picks up his wriggling form, holding him close.

"Just for once, please listen and stay with me," Newt says to him.

He stares up at Newt quizzically with his beady little eyes, though makes no move to escape.

"Thank you," Newt sighs quietly, holding him close.

Looking up, there's a row of shabby townhouses beside him, and just up ahead is a church made of rusting tin panels. The place looks like it's been abandoned, with the front steps covered in dead leaves and dirt. The windows seem to be stained with age, worn-out shingles suggest work needs to be done, and flyers warning the world about witches cover the area. Newt suppresses a shiver. 

The niffler desperately wriggles around in his arms. 

Percival is nearby.

Quietly taking cautious steps forward, Newt begins to hear hushed voices in the otherwise quiet neighbourhood. He inches closer, rounding the corner. The voices are stronger now.

He takes to hiding behind trash cans, the niffler trying to escape his grip, but he holds him close to his body, not letting him scurry away. The voices are loud enough to hear ー Newt recognizes the second one as Percival.

Still partially invisible, Newt takes a chance, peaking around the trash cans. His eyes widen at the sight. Percival stands across from the Second Salemer boy, speaking about something Newt can't quite make out. Percival's speaking too quickly and not loud enough for the words to register.

He turns away quickly, retreating to the cover the trash cans provides, his heart hammering in his chest.

He doesn't understand ー there's no way the boy isn't a muggle, or he wouldn't be with the Second Salemers. Why in the world is Percival speaking with him, of all people? He thought that the Second Salemers would be the last muggles Percival would have contact with. And yet.

What is going on? Why is Percival here? For a case? No, that doesn't make sense. He'd of brought the boy into MACUSA if it was.

Newt chances a look again to try and get context for the situation. Percival squeezes the boy's shoulder appreciatively, then turns around.

Newt ducks behind his cover again. The niffler squirms and Newt silently wills him to stop. Not now, not when he's finally starting to see what Percival has been up to.

Then, startling Newt, there's a crack that permeates the air, making him jump. That was Disapparition!

Percival just performed magic in front of a muggle!

Newt squeezes the niffler, his thoughts in a chaotic storm. Nothing he witnessed made any sense. At all! Percival always stressed the importance of Rappaport's Law, and now he used magic in front of a muggle? A muggle that's apart of the New Salem Philanthropic Society, at that? The boy ー or maybe he's a man, Newt corrects himself, now that he walks closer to where Newt is hidden ー is odd. He has sharp cheekbones and a hunched figure, as though standing tall is an offense to those around him. His eyes are trained on the ground and not the area surrounding him, and he grips something tightly in his fist against his chest.

A necklace, perhaps?

As soon as the man enters the church, Newt stands up, still not releasing his grip on the niffler.

It's unlikely Percival's gone home. He never comes home so early in the evening, but Newt has to check anyway.

__________

Percival is not at home when he arrives, which leads to Newt searching the streets with his niffler yet again. This time, he's lead to an alleyway again, but Percival isn't around. The niffler simply leads Newt to a closed door.

The building they're stopped in front of is deceptively normal looking at first glance. It's a nice, moderately sized townhouse made of brown bricks. But upon closer inspection, things don't add up. The windows are boarded up, there's no address at the front, and the steel door Newt currently stands in front of looks like a shortcut to the house. Made for wizards.

The niffler almost scratches at the door, then prepares to sneak underneath in order to get the ring back.

Newt's heart leaps into his throat as he snatches up the niffler with a reflex so fast, he surprises himself.

"Just wait a bit longer," Newt says to him in a whisper. Nifflers aren't known for their patience, and the fact that the niffler has been so patient with him so far has been a miracle. He full well knows that it might not be a quick wait, if this is truly where Percival has been disappearing off into every night.

Newt pulls out his pocket watch to see it's only nine in the evening.

He could possibly be there for hours.

He's been stalking his own lover for two hours, and now possibly more. An overwhelming sense of wrongness for his actions fill him, but he can't stop — not after all he's witnessed.

He walks further into the alley, to the part that's completely shrouded in darkness, where nobody would be able to see him unless they were actively searching for him. He shuffles into a space between a rotting wooden fence and brick wall, where the wind doesn't reach him quite as strongly and shadows aid in hiding him.

Seconds bleed into minutes, then painfully tally up into hours. Even with a warming charm and the niffler held against him, the cold creeps in, and he can't hold back the shivers anymore.

He remembers Percival mentioning one time how monitoring for criminal activity and stakeouts were the most painful parts of his job as an auror, though he very rarely had to participate in them anymore as director. Newt entirely agrees with him. A glance at his pocket watch tells him only two hours have passed away and each minute of them had been terrible.

He can't help but think that If Percival hadn't lied, he'd be sitting at home reading or in bed by this point. Even the niffler has checked out, dozing lightly in his grip, buried halfway inside his coat for warmth.

More time ticks by in a slow crawl, lending to absolute boredom for Newt. He thinks he can hear his pocket watch echoing around in his head despite it being tucked away in his pocket. At some point, time blends away into nothing as he's lost in his thoughts, with only the sound of the niffler snoring quietly and cars traversing the roads.

With a loud creak, the door opens, flooding the alley with golden light. In an instant, Newt snaps out of his dazed state.

A couple of wizards come out, speaking to each other quietly. None of them are Percival, and Newt's never seen any of them before. They're all wearing black as night clothes that whip around in the cold night. They part from each other wordlessly and Apparate away. Newt frowns at the strange sight — everything about this situation is so _wrong_.

Newt checks his pocket watch again. It's twelve in the morning. His ears are cold and his toes numb, he shivers intermittently, all the while trying to keep still so the poor niffler on his lap can sleep. 

A bit more time passes by, and the door creaks open again. Out steps Percival, who wraps his coat tightly around himself. He steps forward into the alley a bit, his stance unsure. Newt thinks Percival is about to leave, so he quickly gets hold of the niffler, taking his wand out of his sleeve in a heartbeat, ready to be home with a quick wave of his wand.

Instead, Percival turns around to look at the other end of the alley. The end he's in. 

Newt stills, slowing his breathing down, trying not to make the slightest of sounds.

"Newt."

He gives a jump, his heart leaping into his throat.

"Did you think I wouldn't notice the ring?" Percival asks, voice loud amidst the silence. "That I wouldn't notice how off you were this morning?" He takes a few steps toward Newt.

Newt stays where he is, paralyzed. He knows it's wrong to have been spying on Percival, he does, but he can't help but cling to the reasoning that it's _fair_. The letter Tina sent weighed heavily upon him, and he can't forget the way Percival lied without hesitation that morning.

"Stand up," Percival commands, his voice cold. He takes his wand out, aiming it at Newt, and Newt's heart paces faster.

"Revelio."

 _Relief_. For a second he thoughtー _but no_ , Percival would never harm him. It's just that his face had been so plain, so devoid of emotion, and his tone of voice was one he'd never taken with Newt before. 

Newt's Disillusionment charm falls away, revealing his crouched form huddled against the wall and the wooden fence. The niffler wakes up, twisting and squirming out of Newt's grip, running to Percival's feet, eagerly awaiting his ring.

Newt stands, preparing himself for whatever's to come.

Percival ignores the niffler. He takes quick steps up to where Newt is standing, then takes hold of his coat's collar, his face the picture of cold fury. "Why are you following me?!"

"Iー Iー" Newt stutters, gripping Percival's hands in an attempt to get him to back off. It doesn't work well, however, as Percival shoves him into the fence.

Newt hadn't been counting on Percival finding him, and he finds he comes up empty with excuses, his body shaking in panic.

"You lied to me," he finally says, finding his nerve. He meets Percival's furious eyes. "I mailed Tina, I asked because I was concerned for you and you wouldn't tell me what was wrong. Imagine my surprise when I found out there was no injured auror that night! Why are you lying to me?!" Newt confesses brokenly, still breathing heavy as the panic from earlier slowly starts to fade away.

Percival loosens his grip on Newt's coat before letting him go. "There are thingsー" he breathes out deeply, "things I have to do for this job that are questionable. Things I have to do to keep others safe. Nobody is supposed to know I'm out here, Newt! Not even you. I'm trying to keep America safe from Grindelwald, and you're putting me in a compromising position."

"I don't believe you," Newt states. "I saw you with that boy out on the street with the Second-Salemers. What could you possibly be doing talking to him? He's a muggle. Is it not your job to be keeping a distance from them? Or does that only apply to everyone else?"

Percival sneers at him, and Newt's heart leaps in fear again, having never seen Percival so enraged.

"His name is Credence. I'm only in contact with him to make sure the Second-Salemers don't suspect anything."

Newt, unsatisfied by the answer, switches topics. "I saw the other men who walked out of this building, care to explain who they are?

"Have you ever thought, for one moment, that my job requires me to do things that you may not like? That I have to put myself on the line, that I have to hold secrets and see the worst of humanity while I keep myself together?!" Percival stops to let himself breathe in.

Newt shakes his head, moving away from Percival.

But Percival isn't done.

"Have you ever given thought that a world of politics outside your case exists? Do you remember the day when I rescued you from that dark wizard, and you were arrested for interfering with an investigation? If it weren't for me, those occamies you have would've never reached your case, they would've been executed. If it weren't for me, you would've been charged as a criminal for taking justice into your own hands. I told my aurors that you were consulting for me ー they still don't know otherwise, it's a secret. Just as now I'm going outside the law to do what's right - and nobody knows. You're not even supposed to know."

"But why?" He asks quietly.

"Why what?"

"W-why am I not supposed to know?"

Percival finally softens, appearing to have ranted away his anger. He steps closer to Newt, but Newt moves away. "For God's sake, Newt, I'm trying to protect you. You're not supposed to know any of this!"

This gives Newt pause. It clear, now, that whatever it is Percival is doing is being done outside the law — that it's dangerous and capable of hurting Newt, and still, Newt wants to know. Being with the Director of Magical Security always meant his life could be in danger, and he'd accepted that long ago knowing he could defend himself, but whatever Percival's gotten himself into seems like more than a general threat.

"Percival, what in the world have you gotten yourself into?"

"I can't tell you."

"After all I've witnessed, you still won't tell me," Newt states, disbelief and anger creeping into his voice.

"No."

Newt can't believe him!

"Newt, I love you, I truly do, but I can't tell you anything. You have to trust me on this, please."

How'd they get here? The two of them, so madly in love with each other before Newt left for his trip ー coming to this? The world around them is silent and asleep, only the wind proving that time still moves. It's only Percival and Newt, standing across from each other, and Newt wants more than anything to pull the truth from him, all the while Percival remains concrete in his effort to hide whatever he's been doing. And the thing is, he loves Percival too. He wants him to be safe in the sanctuary of their apartment rather than the cold streets of New York. He wants everything to go back to how it'd been before he left for South America.

Newt resolves himself to finding out whatever Percival's been up to, one way or another.

"I trust you," Newt finally says. "But you're not allowing me to help you," he pauses, trying for another angle. "Did you know you wake me up at night all the time? You have these nightmares that cause you to scream and thrash around, and I don't understand. At the very least, let me help you."

Percival watches him with a certain amount of caution and care, while Newt still fights off the shivers that plagued him earlier.

He's trying so hard to care, to not be angry, but it's difficult. Percival had grabbed him by his collar and pushed him up against a fence! And it certainly doesn't help that he's withholding what he's been doing.

"Some dreamless drought will help," Percival suggests finally.

"Yes, I can help with that," Newt says slowly, nodding. At least they're making some progress. "But I need you to tell me what's happening. Please."

_"I can't."_

More winds blows.

Newt shuts his eyes, trying to reign in his frustration. "Why don't we go home and talk about the rest of this?"

Percival nods, holding out his arm for Newt to take hold of. Newt takes it reluctantly. Hesitantly.

_________

Newt spends about thirty more minutes trying to drag the truth out of Percival, but nothing he says can persuade him. So instead, Newt is left in the shadows as to what Percival has gotten himself into. He's still upset, too. He hasn't forgotten that Percival called him self-absorbed, nor has he forgotten the physical violence.

It shook him to the core.

Percival had never, ever, been violent around him like that.

Newt's left empty with no idea how to go about dealing with the situation. He thinks about contacting Theseus, but no, that wouldn't turn out well; Theseus would end up marching to New York ready to fight Percival, and that is the last thing Newt wants. His mother would know how to deal with this. She always was an expert in resolving conflicts between anyoneーespecially Newt and Theseus when they got into argumentsーbut he doesn't want to burden his mum with the knowledge he is both unhappy and scared.

Newt unbuckles his case and steps part-way down the latter when Percival enters the room, confused.

"Aren't you coming to bed?"

"No. I'm going to sleep in here tonight."

Percival frowns. "If this is because I won't tell you, you're being childish and selfish. Now come on, it's one in the morning andー"

Newt shuts the lid of his case with an audible slam.

Perhaps it is a bit childish of him, but he doesn't care. Percival has yet to even apologize for what he's said.

Inside, his case is dim; the vast majority of his creatures are asleep. Even the niffler is curled up in his nest, the ring placed atop his pile of treasures. For that, Newt smiles to himself before it fades away as quickly as it came. All of his creatures are content. He, however, is not.

He's like an emotional storm brewing, ready to strike out.

However, instead of letting all the emotions out, he flops onto his bed, drained from the day's events. He doesn't want to take out it on something he'll regret the next day, so he shuts his eyes and lets sleep take over him.

_________

Percival is gone for work by the time Newt emerges from the case. Newt only finds relief in Percival's absence.

He spends most of the day in a haze, staring out the window, watching the street below. There are fancy muggle automobiles parked along the nicely cobbled street. Occasionally, a mail-man or couple walks by, but the street is mostly devoid of life. It's strangely isolating, in a way; he sits alone inside while the world around him goes about its business.

This is the first major fight he's shared with Percival, but somehow, it's more than a simple lover's spat. It's more serious than that. There's something dark happening, and Newt can't place what it is. Like a missing piece of a puzzle, he can't make out the whole picture.

More time slips by with him in thought when he hears the front door slam closed, and figures enough is enough. Percival has absolutely no right to be angry about Newt following him, considering every single night he said he'd been out was a lie straight to Newt's face.

Newt stomps over to the entryway, where Percival is hurriedly putting his coat away.

"Percival, I can'tー"

Percival takes three long strides over and kisses Newt aggressively. He holds his weight against him, backing them into the wall. At first, Newt's too overwhelmed to protest, letting Percival's lips move against his, but soon he gathers his bearings, pushing Percival back.

"You can't just silence me with a kiss," Newt protests. His tone is angry but quiet. Percival is still extremely close to him, and it's the closest they've psychically been in a while.

"Watch me," Percival whispers lowly.

He begins to aggressively kiss Newt again, this time rubbing his hips up against him.

Newt groans into Percival's mouth at the sensation, trying not to buck up against the friction. It's too much; Percival's warm body covers him, blanketing him with too many sensations and he can't focus on them all, it just melts into a pot of pleasure. He can feel his cock start to respond to all the movement, filling out in his trousers. Soon, he's rocking back against Percival, moaning almost unabashedly. It's been far too long since they've last done this.

But he's still angry at Percival.

Percival begins unbuttoning Newt's shirt quickly, shoving the offending articles of clothing to the floor in a rush, exposing Newt's pale skin to the cool room.

Newt fumbles for Percival's shirt, but his hand is slapped away, and Percival holds his wrist to the wall, preventing it from wondering anywhere else.

Newt wants to tear away but his skin feels alight with desire — it burns through him with an intensity he hasn't encountered since he first met Percival, when every touch sent tendrils of pleasure through him.

Percival allows Newt's hands to fall out of his grip, but he doesn't let Newt move away. Instead, he grinds against him, mouthing against his neck with such ferocity Newt doesn't want to stop.

He's conflicted.

So, cautiously, he allows Percival to continue.

However, each time Percival tries to gain more control over him, by pinning his hands, Newt resists by pushing back. Whether Percival likes it or not, Newt is taller than him, perhaps stronger too, and can take control if he wants.

"Don't think this changes anything," Newt says breathily as Percival sucks at his neck, still grinding up against him.

Percival stops for a moment, moving back to make eye-contact with Newt. His face is somewhat flushed and his lips are swollen red. "You followed me, not the other way around," he says matter-of-factly.

Newt grits his teeth together and his hands curl up into fists at his side, his nails nearly breaking through the skin. He cannot believe the nerve of Percival. He's insulted Newt, used physical force, and yet it's still like he believes he's done nothing wrong. "You lied to me," Newt reminds him.

"It was necessary," Percival maintains.

Newt completely stills. Only their heavy breathing can be heard. Then, suddenly, in an uncharacteristic display of aggression, Newt grabs Percival by the shoulder and reverses their positions, forcing Percival against the wall. Newt's never been prone to acting out in his life, but the way Percival has been throwing his emotions in each and every direction has taken its toll. It's to the point where Newt almost feels as though he's being played with.

His infinite amount of patience snaps.

But he still wants.

He wants to feel Percival's skin against him, despite feeling like slapping Percival is well-deserved.

That's when he starts tearing at Percival's clothes, uncomfortable at how exposed he is while Percival still has everything down to his shoes still on.

"Strip," Newt demands.

Percival meets his eyes, and something in him changes. He does as Newt commands, taking his shirt off in a hurry while he kicks his shoes away. It takes longer than Newt wants ー Percival always wears so many damn layers ー but eventually only his underclothes remain.

Newt wants those gone too. "All of it," he says.

Percival slowly pulls his underwear off too, purposely taking his time. He only succeeds in making Newt more impatient. He's practically throbbing with need by this point. Once Percival is naked, Newt steps forward, kissing Percival urgently. Finally, nothing separates their bodies; it's just bare chest against bare chest, their bodies moving against each other, trying to find pleasure. It's as though a barrier ー and not just a physical one ー has been removed between them.

Percival pulls back slightly. "Bedroom," he utters against Newt's skin.

Newt nods, and they step through the hallway to the bedroom. It's a short distance away, but with the way Newt's burning with need, it's not short enough.

Percival shoves Newt down onto the bed, more controlling than Newt is used to. It's aggressive. Part of Newt finds himself liking it, and the other half wants to stop this all immediately.

Unlike most times in bed, Percival does not take care in being gentle to him, nor does he bother in taking his time. 

Percival takes hold of Newt and flips him around so that he's lying on his stomach. With the cool air brushing against Newt's naked back, he feels exposed and left open for Percival to do with as he pleases. It's not where Newt envisioned the night going in the slightest, and he still wants to make Percival apologize and admit to whatever he's been doing, but his will's slowly being drained from him.

 _This rough, almost callous moment with Percival is the most intimate they've been in a while_ , he thinks wildly.

It's over in a flurry of harsh thrusts, kisses that are almost bites, gasps, and a sort of struggle for taking the lead. In the end, Newt let Percival do as he wanted, and now they lie beside each other, breathing heavily and covered in sweat. Newt himself is still recovering, his body blissed out and tired, boneless. between his legs is sticky and he doesn't have the energy to argue with Percival anymore. His eyes close of their own accord, his body yearning for sleep. He doesn't know how to feel now that they're lying side by side, their heavy breaths coming out at the same time. Of course, fucking doesn't fix everything, or much of anything really, but it's as though a gap in their relationship has mended partially. At the very least, Newt feels closer to Percival.

They don't hold each other afterward, as they normally would, but just lying in the bed together is an achievement after last night's events.

A very fragile, small truce forms between them.

_________

His relationship with Percival remains rocky, and they don't trust each other's company the way they used to, but they've finally started a step in the right direction. They've gone from glaring at each other and insults to sharing civil small talk.

Earlier, in the morning, he and Percival even shared a joke together and laughed for a minute or so. Small as it may seem, it's a world away from the tension that plagued them.

In a way, Newt's accepted Percival isn't going to be home much for the time being. Even if he still desperately wants to know what Percival is doing. Instead, he spends his time finalizing his manuscript, and doting on his creatures, who've been somewhat neglected as of late.

Life feels as though it's slowly on the mend for him when, in the evening, a letter from Theseus arrives.

_Newt,_

_Words cannot describe how much I wish to not be sending you this letter, but I have to. I'm going to state it simply, without out any playing around: mum passed away. She suffered a heart attack. There was nothing that could have been done about it, the healers told us. Father and I have already buried her, but there'll be a funeral in a few week's time, at home, on the estate grounds. It's what she wanted. I'll send the rest of the information about it at a later date._

_I know you'll want to come home as soon as you receive this but don't. Please, please don't. Not right now. Stay with Percival. Stay in America while we sort things out. I promise to write to you as much as I can with updates. For now, please know that I'm terribly sorryーthat I miss mum as dearly as I'm sure you will._

_Your brother, Theseus_

At first, Newt sits there, the letter in hand as his brain refuses to process the words further.

It's just a terrible practical joke, right? Theseus is only messing around, that's all it has to be.

His mother had been so lively, the last time he'd seen her. She'd been fine. There was no way a heart attack could take her away from them.

Newt simply doesn't process the letter for a long while. He stares at it blankly, his mind a flurry of thoughtsーexplanationsーas to why the letter can't be true.

He reads it again and again and there's that pain in his chest. The one of profound sadness.

It's as though he's been split into two and his heart torn from him, and he can no longer function without it. He felt himself die reading the news of his mother's death.

His body shuts down, he remains sitting at his wooden desk for what could be hours or minutes. It all fades into meaningless sensations. The candle eventually flickers, giving way to darkness and the stench of smoke, but it is not enough to move Newt nor motivate him to warm his now freezing body.

His mother is dead.

Mèlanie Scamander died, on the 19th of November, 1926.

The woman who smiled at his eccentricities, encouraging him to reach for whatever whimsical dreams the mind of a child could make up. The woman who held him as he cried, sobbing that is was unfair he be expelled because of an accident. The same woman who fuelled his interest in magical creatures — who told him to pursue a career for them when everyone else frowned, including his own father and brother.

Long past the time when goosebumps raised on his skin, his stomach growled in hunger and his throat became tight from a lack of water, a tear finally escapes the corner of his eye, making a watery path down his freckles to his chin, where it plops down onto the desk. He blinks rapidly, trying to fight the tears back, but he only succeeds in making more and more fall. Soon enough, his body is heaving as sobs rattle through him, stealing his breath away, turning it into shaky gasps and he can't keep up. It's as though his entire world has fallen apart and his body is shaking with the effort to keep together.

He can't wrap his head around it. Someone who'd been present in his life before he could so much as breathe on his own is just gone from the world. What was the last thing he said to her? Did she die peacefully? Did she think about him?

He regrets not visiting home for a year. He regrets it with every fiber of his being. He'd been so focused on his career, on Percival, on his travels, that family got lost in it all. Newt feels so terrible that he simply does not have it in him to stand up from the chair and make it to the cot. He doesn't have the energy.

If he thought he felt alone in the world a week ago, now he knows the true meaning loneliness.

Newt lies his head on the desk for a while, tears falling freely as he tries to get his breath back. He tries to think of something other than his mother but his thoughts never fail to circle back to her, bringing a new wave of despair and tears each time. His throat is closed up and sore from the sobbing, but he can't find it in himself to get up and fill himself a glass of water.

As he cries, he feels a tapping on his leg, then he looks down. The niffler is there on the ground, a golden coin in his outstretched little paws as an offering.

Newt sniffles, trying to smile, but fails. Regardless, he reaches down and gently takes the coin. "Thank you, little guy," he whispers, his voice a torn up and broken thing.

But the niffler doesn't scurry off after. He prods at Newt's legs, nosing in the direction of his cot.

Newt doesn't say anything further. He stands on wobbly legs, walks over to the cot, then nearly collapses into it, not bothering to pull the covers over himself or change out of his rumpled clothes.

The niffler crawls up into the cot, curling up with him. Newt would've found it remarkable, but despair has its claws dug in tightly, not willing to relinquish its grip. It claims his every thought. Theseus never mentioned how he felt about their mother's death in the letter, nor did he mention how their father's dealing with it. Are they coping? Or are they like him, drowning in misery?

Newt doesn't feel it as he falls asleep that terrible night, cold and in despair, he drifts off into oblivion.

__________

Waking up the next morning is a blissful affair ー for a brief moment. His eyes are shut and crusted over, his limbs are cold from being uncovered, and his head aches something terrible; but for a brief moment, just one blissful minute upon waking, he forgot the reason to his misery.

All for it to come back to him in a wave of emotional pain that makes him want to turn over and empty the contents of his stomach on the floor.

His mother is dead.

He cannot control the tears that rush forward, flooding his eyes as he sobs out again. The niffler, who's curled up beside him, startles as he lets out loud cries.

Nothing could've ever prepared Newt for the mental anguish of losing a parent. It's as though he's a tree torn from his roots, left alone to wither away, isolated from the rest of his family. Theseus told him not to come home ー and he'd been right in assuming Newt would want to come home immediately ー but without home, Newt feels as though he's at the edge of the world.

His creatures must be hungry.

But his body just keeps shaking with grief.

More time passes, and the niffler prods at Newt, his black eyes inquisitive.

Newt wipes away at his eyes with his sleeves, eventually managing to leave his bed on shaky limbs that don't quite support him. He grips the desk as he stumbles, catching sight of the letter. He closes his eyes for a brief moment, his face still sticky and wet.

"Come on, let's go get you something to eat," Newt says quietly, his voice scratchy.

He makes his rounds slower than usual, none of the usual joy present in his step. His creatures take notice of the change in him, each trying in their own way to cheer him up, but his mind is a world away from them. In another situation, another time, he would've been amazed by the empathy his creatures were possible of emitting. Instead, he stares blankly into space when they try to rub against him in a comforting motion.

"Newt?" He hears a voice call, startling him out of his daze.

It's Percival.

Newt wants to be alone with his grief more than anything, but hiding away will only earn him more trouble.

"Here," he calls.

Percival enters in slowly, dressed down and his hair yet to be placed in its immaculate style. It's Saturday, Newt realizes with a jolt. Furthermore, Newt also realizes he doesn't know the time.

"Are you alright?" Percival asks gently.

What a mess he must look. He's still wearing yesterday's clothes, his hair is more tangled than usual and surely his eyes are puffy and red. There's no point in denying anything. "No," he says brokenly. He doesn't dare use his voice any louder for the fear of bursting into tears again. They're already threatening his eyes.

Newt blinks rapidly, trying to will them away. He doesn't want to break down in front of Percival.

And yet, all it takes is Percival stepping closer, his face drawn up in concern, for Newt's hold over himself to break into pieces.

Tears come rolling down his cheeks as his body shakes. Percival rushes forward, embracing him tightly. Any semblance of the arguments they'd been having melt away into the shadows. They all pale in importance compared to the news he's received. It's all so frivolous and silly now.

"Newt, god, what's wrong? What happened?"

Newt buries his face in the crook of Percival's neck. He can't force out the words ー his cries turn to sobs again, and he has too much trouble catching his breath. Forcing out an answer is impossible. Percival, for his part, remains calm, simply rubbing a hand over Newt's back, trying to soothe him through the shaking sobs. "Shhh, shh, it's okay," he says gently, tightening his grip on Newt.

It takes Newt a minute or two until the worst of the cries have stopped plaguing him; his head still remains resting against Percival but his breaths come out at regular intervals again.

"Newt?" Percival asks quietly.

"It's my mum. Iー I got a letter saying sheー she passed away," Newt says, his voice ragged from the amount of crying he's done in the past twelve hours.

"Oh god, Newt. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I know what that pain is likeー it's indescribable. Did..." Percival hesitates, taking a deep breath, "did the letter say how?"

"H-heart attack."

"I'm so sorry," Percival whispers supportively, his voice belying the hurt he feels for Newt. "Have you finished feeding your creatures?" He asks.

Newt nods against his shoulder.

"Come upstairs. I'll make you some tea."

Newt says nothing in reply. He removes his head from where it lay on Percival, and feels a bit of shame for the wet patch he left on his shirt. Percival says nothing of it, however, he just places a gentle hand on Newt's lower back, slowly guiding them out of the case.

Upstairs, the apartment is as clean as usual; not an object out of place. It's strange how it no longer lends the security and warmth of home to Newt.

"How about some linden tea?" Percival asks, shuffling through the cupboards as Newt takes a seat at the table.

"Please."

Percival nods, dragging out the tea kettle and cups from the cupboards. As the water heats up, he comes to take a seat across from Newt, who's staring at the oak table as though there's an interesting pattern decorating it. He holds his head in his hands, his hair a mess caught in-between his fingers.

"My parents died when I was twenty-five," Percival says suddenly. Newt relaxes his grip on his hair and looks up at Percival with an inquisitive stare.

"It was sudden too. A freak accident, they told me. I just got a fire-call at work, right in front of the others. My parents died in a fire. A freak accident. There was nothing left of them aside from charred bones. I could feel everyone's eyes on me in that moment and I just froze. I couldn't believe it, I thought it had to be some big mistake, there was no way they could just be gone. It's a strange thing, to suddenly be left alone in the world. It took me a long time to sort through all those feelings. For a while I was angry and snapped at the people around me, keeping my feelings pent up rather than discussing them," Percival explains quietly. Newt's eyes shine with the promise of tears again, so Percival hastens to finish.

"My point is ー anything you're feeling, don't keep it inside. Talk to me. I know and understand the pain you're feeling ー you're not alone."

Newt swallows down a lump in his throat, blinking rapidly. His feelings are still so raw he fears he may burst into tears at any moment, but Percival's words bring a bit of warmth to the stark cold that's taken over his heart.

"It still doesn't feel real," Newt admits.

"I felt that way for a while too. It may take some time for you, is all. I'm not going to say it's easy to go through all of this, because it's not, but eventually, the pain will fade in its intensity."

The kettle starts whistling shrilly.

Percival stands up to take it off the stove, then pour the water into the cups. Newt looks away, to the window, where gentle rain trickles down the glass in rivulets.

"Here," Percival pushes the cup in front of Newt. Steam rises from it slowly, giving off the scent of flowers and sweetness. It's something that's entirely too good and pure for the type of sadness Newt's locked in ー he doesn't want to drink it, even if he knows it would help to soothe his nerves. His mother always appreciated the tea. She had it before bed sometimes and always made Newt and Theseus drink it when they were sick, despite their protests it was gross and yucky. However, growing up, Newt learned to appreciate the sweetness of it on his tongue.

"What do you want for breakfast?" Percival asks.

"I'm not hungry."

Percival sighs. He doesn't make a big protest of it, to which Newt is grateful. He doesn't have the energy to argue.

"Just make sure to eat lunch and dinner then, alright?" Percival states, as though he expects Newt to promise him that he'll eat.

Newt nods, finally gathering the courage to drink the linden tea. It tastes different than the way he and his mother prepare it, but similar enough to send another pang of sadness through him.

"I'm going out again tonight. I'm going to keep it as short as possible. I won't be out late," Percival says.

Newt doesn't have room in himself to be more upset than he already is, so he nods. "I'm going to write back to Theseus at some point tonight. Otherwise, I think I just want to sleep."

Percival takes Newt's free hand in his, gripping tightly. Newt finally looks up again. "You can't, Newt. No matter how much you want to. You need to take care of your creatures. And you can't just sleep the day away."

"Then what am I supposed to do?" Newt asks, an edge of irritation present in his voice. Doesn't Percival understand he just wants to escape the thoughts?

"Do anything you can to distract yourself. Fall into work, take care of your creatures. Just don't fall into bad habits."

"Well, you're one to talk."

Percival freezes. A beat passes by. "What?" He asks.

"The drinking? Is that not falling into bad habits?"

Percival frowns. "I've already told you. I've seen things I never wanted to see. I drink to take my mind off it ー just for a short reprieve. Trust me, I didn't cope when my parents died. I spent my time doing everything you're not supposed to do; it nearly killed me until my superior called me out one day, saying I was going to drown myself in pity and die needlessly. I was pissed when he first told me that, but I realized he was right. So yes, I drink, but it's not destructive. You can't start these destructive patterns, Newt. They're near impossible to get out of. So please, don't go sleeping all day."

A tear drips down Newt's face as he stares into the teacup. He wants to sleep so badly. He wants to escape. But that's the easy way out. Percival is right. His creatures are depending on him, and as much as Newt would like to waste away, he's sure his mother wouldn't appreciate him wilting away in her name.

He spends most of the day upstairs, curled up on the couch next to Percival, reading a book. It's a struggle to keep his thoughts from drifting, and occasionally tears come again, and Percival holds him through them.

In an odd way, at the darkest time, things with Percival are nearly normal again. No tension remains between them and his offered comfort is the only thing keeping Newt from going insane.

Only for him to be left in the cold when Percival has to leave later that evening. Newt tells himself that it's alright, even though it's a blatant lie. He takes his mind off it by writing back to Theseus. The letter is a messy one, written by a shaky hand and tears soaking the parchment, but he's proud he actually finished the letter in the first place.

The next few days pass by in a blurry haze. Newt wakes up each morning with tears in his eyes, numbly tending to his creatures while his mind remains a blurry mess, unable to process thoughts properly.

Every once in awhile, a nagging thought passes him by.

What if he's taking this all too roughly? He'd thought that a few days would pass, and he'd be okay. And yet, Newt found it to be the opposite. He's getting worse.

Percival tries to help the best he can, though the extent of his help never reaches beyond making sure Newt is eating and taking care of himself. Newt shuts himself away, slowly becoming more and more embittered towards Percival; at night, Newt cries himself to sleep ー and Percival is nowhere to be seen, still doing whatever he's been up to for the past weeks.

Newt feels his absence more acutely than ever, but this time he has no desire or want to follow Percival around. He just wants to sleep everything away.

But what hurts the most is that in his time of need, Percival is away more than ever before.

_________

That evening, a letter comes in from Tina, asking if he'd like to come over for dinner again. Off to the side, she comments it's been awhile since she's heard from him, and she hopes he's okay. His heart swells with warmth.

He sends a letter back in a hurry, agreeing to the dinner.

__________

Six days pass and it comes time for their dinner.

Newt is barely inside the Goldstein's apartment for more than a minute when Queenie lets out a high pitched gasp, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

"Oh, honey!" She exclaims.

Newt closes his eyes, willing his own tears away. Over the past week, he's gotten better about crying at random moments ー the grief is still fresh, but it isn't crushing in its weight anymore. He opens his eyes to see Queenie moving closer to him, her arms outstretched. She envelopes him in her arms, hugging him tightly while rocking him gently.

"I'm so sorry," she says softly.

"What's wrong?" Tina asks. Her face is drawn up in concern, but she doesn't encroach in on their space.

Queenie lets go of Newt slowly, allowing for him to answer Tina.

"My mother... she passed away," he tells her, keeping his eyes trained on the floor.

Tina then steps forward and hugs him too. Her hug is hesitant, but Newt appreciates the gesture more than he can put into words.

"Oh Merlin, that's terrible. I'm so sorry, Newt," she says.

Tina unwraps her arms from him, stepping back. Both her and Queenie regard him with a knowing and sad look in their eyes. He remembers them mentioning their parents dying at an early age. He's lucky, he supposes, that he even still has his father left, that his mother died while he's twenty-nine. Queenie, Tina, and Percival have no parents left in the world, and here he is, acting as though the world's stopped.

"You can't think that way," Queenie tells him. "Everyone feels pain differently. And pain is relative. It's okay to mourn your mother for as long as you need."

Newt's struck with a sudden want to cry again. But this time for a different reason. Those were the words he needed to hear, this is the comfort he's wanted. This is the warmth that can keep the dark thoughts away.

"Here, come sit down," Queenie says, taking his coat from his arms. "I made *****, and I really hope you enjoy it."

Indeed, the food on the table sits on fine china, smelling highly appetizing, welcoming him in. He takes a seat on the left side of the table, waiting for Queenie and Tina to dig into the food first. They don't make further mention of his mother ー though it's not like they ignore the subject ー for which he is entirely grateful.

"So how've your creatures been, Newt?" Queenie asks him while she dishes herself out some vegetables.

"They've been well. In fact, they've been surprisingly supportive this past week. They're highly capable of empathy ー I've been wanting to write about that discovery in my book for a few days now."

"Really? That's actually very interesting, I never knew animals could do that," Tina comments.

"Yes, I knew they had some capability to before, but I'd never experienced it in the way I have this week."

"Huh," Queenie hums. "You'll have to bring over this case full of creatures sometime. I'm dying to see 'em."

"I'd love to," Newt says, smiling.

"And how's the Director doing? I never see him around anymore, he's always holed up in his office," Queenie asks politely.

Newt freezes, setting his fork down none too gracefully. Flashes of nights spent alone come into his mind before he can stop the thoughts. He thinks of their confrontation in the alley and the night Percival came home with bloodstains.

Queenie stares at him, wide-eyed and guilty, knowing she heard thoughts she shouldn't.

"Um..." Newt starts. But really, he has absolutely no idea how to explain, nor how to get out of the situation. His mouth opens and closes, unable to form words. "Things are... alright," he finally settles.

Truth be told, things are far from alright. Newt doesn't know where he and Percival stand anymore. He loves him, and he thinks Percival loves him back, but... he can't just ignore the odd behaviour, nor can he forget the alley. As much as Percival acts as though things are alright between them, the alley remains the elephant in the room. Unspoken and never addressed. Newt isn't done with the 'elephant' yet ー his mother's death stopped him for a while, rendering him unable to deal with the situation, but Newt wants to continue on the argument and finally find out what Percival is doing.

"That's good," Tina says quickly, not moving her eyes from Queenie. "I got a slight promotion at wand permits," she mentions.

"That's good to hear," Newt says, disjointed from how quickly Tina changed the topic.

An awkward silence follows for a minute. Newt eats quietly, cringing inwardly from the way their silverware scrapes the plates and the fire burns away with crackles too loudly.

"And... MACUSA?" He asks, breaking the silence. "Is it still busy?"

"Very much so," says Queenie. Her jovial expression is back, and she leaves their previous topic behind without hesitation.

For the rest of their night, their conversations continue on easily, with the shadow of their earlier conversation lurking in Newt's mind, and they speak about nothing notable. It's nice to just have a casual chat with people again, Newt thinks, instead of arguments or talks of grief. By the end of the night, that warm, pleasant feeling has settled over him again, allowing him to easily conduct himself. He doesn't hesitate to smile at jokes nor does he find himself being awkward. He simply enjoys himself.

Newt says goodbye to Queenie quietly, and she apologizes for reading his mind. She can't help it, she explains.

Newt forgives her easily.

It's a mild day for November, and the slightest sliver of light remains outside, so Tina asks if she can walk Newt home. There is clearly an ulterior motive to her walking him home besides being polite, but he accepts anyway, wanting to share her company further.

The street they walk down is busy. Muggle automobiles fill the air around them with the sound of motors rattling off and the occasional person passes them by.

Newt doesn't know what to say to Tina, unable to think of a topic to bring up.

Luckily, Tina does it for him.

"Newt, I wanted to ask ー and you don't have to answer if you don't want to, I know this is personal ー but when Queenie asked about Graves, your face... you looked terribly sad. Isー is everything alright?"

Newt stops abruptly, causing Tina to stop and sharply turn around.

"Newt?" She asks.

Newt's glued in spot, stuck fighting a debate in his mind. Should he tell Tina? He's leaning toward it. Yet, at the same time, he recalls Percival saying nobody could know what he's doing. It's terribly difficult with an empathetic and caring woman standing in front of him, ready to hear his problems and offer support. Maybe he could omit parts of what Percival's been doing?

Tina steps forward slowly. Gently. "Newt?" She asks again, softly this time, trying to meet his eyes.

"Percival- he's been acting... strange," Newt starts hesitantly, keeping his eyes trained on the ground. "He goes out all the time and I don't know why. I've been left alone nearly every night. He's distant. I don't know what to do about it all, I've tried confronting him, I've tried to persuade him to tell me what's wrong, but he won't admit anything is happening, he just keeps going on as if nothing's ever changed and I don't know what to do! I love him dearly but... I'm just so lost."

Newt continues to stare off into the distance for a moment before he slowly moves his eyes to Tina, who watches him with concern.

"I knew something was going on the moment I saw you at Kowalski's Baked Goods, sitting alone. Each time you came into our office, I swear there was this light in your eyes that awed some of us; a light that said you had so much appreciation and curiosity for the world around you. Us aurors lose that light quickly but seeing you around like that, I'll never forget that. Some of the other's in the office were even jealous of Graves," Tina explains.

Newt stares at her in bewilderment. To hear someone speak of him in such a positive light, to hear people envied Percival because of him, it's stunning. He never knew... would never guess people admired him in such a way.

"And Graves, he was lighter whenever you were around. Relaxed in a way we never saw him. Normally he just stormed around with a permanent frown, but with you... he smiled. He allowed his guard down. Lately, I've heard he's worse than ever: he's been snapping at people unreasonably, shutting himself away. You're right when you say he's been strange lately. When did you start to notice?"

"The day I got back; November second."

"I was demoted two weeks before that. That's when he started acting differently."

Newt pauses. An idea strikes him. "Why were you demoted?"

"There was this incident with the Second-Salemers. I was trying to protect one of them, and I revealed magic to them."

Newt's eyes widen. "Tina, I... followed Percival one day," he shamefully admits, looking away. "He was meeting with this boy ー well, a man really ー he's with the Second-Salemers."

"Credence?" Tina says. She tenses up. Newt doesn't understand.

"You know him?"

"Yes. His mother beats him. I went after her one day; it's why I'm no longer an auror. That's why Graves demoted me. And now he's interacting with Credence? I don't understand," Tina sharply turns, beginning to pace around the sidewalk.

"He said he wanted to make sure the Second-Salemers don't know about the Wizarding community, but the way they were speaking... it seemed more than that. Believe me, I've tried to ask, I've tried so hard, but nothing with him makes sense anymore. I don't know what to do," Newt spills out. Tears sting his eyes again, and he no longer bothers trying to stop them. Instead, they roll down his cheeks in warm rivulets, a sharp contrast from the cool air.

A couple of muggles pass by them, eyeing Newt oddly.

Newt sniffles, and Tina steps forward, gathering him in her arms for the second time that night. Her warmth is pleasant and comforting in all the emotional distress brewing within.

"I'll help you try and figure this out, Newt. I promise. For now, I think that you should go home and rest. Write to me as much as you'd like. We can even meet for lunch or dinner if you'd like. I'll always be around to help."

"Thank you, Tina," Newt says quietly.

They separate, and Newt still sniffles occasionally.

"I can Apparate us the rest of the way, if you'd like," Tina offers.

Newt nods, taking her arm.

Of course, the apartment is empty when Newt arrives home.

__________

Newt takes Tina's offer seriously and writes to her every day. Sometimes they even meet together with Queenie at Jacob's bakery. In the absence of Percival, they've all become invaluable friends to him, providing comfort and support when he couldn't keep himself together anymore. In a week, Newt manages to learn Queenie is genuinely considering committing to a relationship with Jacob, that Jacob fought in the Great War, and that Tina absolutely loves hot dogs.

They manage to keep him cheered up and away from his apartment as much as possible. The thought of his mother hangs over it all, but the pain is dulled, no longer the raw maelstrom that caused him to constantly break down.

Additionally, Theseus sends him letters constantly. In a week, he's received more letters from Theseus than ever before. He writes about memories of their mum, of how he and his father are dealing with the loss, and their plans for a funeral. They'd decided the date to be December first. During her favourite month.

Newt isn't looking forward to returning home for it. Seeing his childhood home will awaken a fresh batch of emotions and memories ー dealing with the grief again sends a pang of fear through him.

Tina tells him the pain is easier to deal with over time, but two weeks isn't enough time for Newt.

On the other hand, the problem with Percival hasn't been resolved. If anything, it's worsened. He's barely home long enough to notice Newt's been going out.

"How about keeping an eye on the Second-Salemers?" Tina suggests as she sits across him at Jacob's bakery, chewing away at her croissant.

"Do you really think he'd meet with Credence again?"

"I don't know. Maybe. I've kind of been following them lately, despite being told not to..." Tina confesses.

Newt stares down at his plate, his food untouched, and his shoulders stiff. "What if he sees you? The way he reacted to me, when he noticed me following him, I don't know if it's the best idea."

"Isn't it at least worth a try? Besides, he can't do anything to me because he's not supposed to be interacting with the Second-Salemers either."

"I suppose so," Newt agrees quietly.

"I promise we'll find out what's going on. It's unfair of him to treat you like this," Tina says. She pushes Newt's plate closer to him. "Now please eat. At least half of it."

Newt picks up his own croissant, picking it apart aimlessly, occasionally popping a bit of it in his mouth. He hasn't been eating much. And he's been sleeping too much. He knows not to do such things, but it's difficult to put forth the effort to get out of bed in the morning or prepare himself something to eat. Besides, his appetite has nearly vanished.

Tina waits for him to finish up eating before she stands up, buttoning her coat. As of late, the weather has calmed, and the cold isn't quite as intense, but it's November, which means the wind still has a bite to it.

"I'll be in contact if I see anything. I'll see you around, alright?" Tina says.

Newt nods, looking Tina in the eyes. Her concerned expression takes him by surprise and gives him pause.

"I'll make sure to write back," Newt tells her.

It's enough for Tina. She nods her head at him and leaves out the glass door for home.

__________

Newt cooks himself dinner. It's a small portion, but he doesn't mind. He situates himself at the dining table by himself, with only the paper to keep him company.

At least he made dinner, he thinks.

As he's wrapped up in an article, and halfway through his meal, he hears the tell-tale sound of Apparition.

Newt sets his fork down, the article he was reading forgotten in an instant, as he jumps up from where he sat. "Percival?" He calls.

Curiously, with slow steps, he walks into the entryway when he doesn't hear a reply.

Percival stands, still fully dressed, not caring to even place his coat on the racks. His face doesn't lighten the way it usually does in Newt's presence. Instead, his jaw is set, his eyes narrowed. The first warning sign.

"Percival?" Newt asks again, wanting to shrink away in the face of his ire.

"Did you tell Goldstein to follow me?"

It takes everything Newt has in him not to react. He keeps his face carefully neutral. "W-what?"

Percival's frown deepens, if possible, before it turns into a snarl of anger. He storms forward, drawing out his wand, backing Newt against the wall.

Newt's heart leaps, beating rapidly, as his eyes widen.

He tries not to do anything dire or stupid as Percival points his ebony wand at Newt's throat. His entire body tenses with the anticipation of pain, or whatever else Percival is planning to do. Looking into Percival's eyes is too difficult, all he sees is absolute fury, and Newt truly thinks Percival is going to harm him.

"You did tell her," Percival states, rather than questions. How he could read him so easily, Newt would never know.

God, he should've listened to that nagging voice that told him letting Tina follow Percival was a terrible idea.

Never before has Percival struck absolute fear into him.

Newt shifts minutely, with Percival's wand still pressing against his neck. He forces himself to meet Percival's brown eyes, knowing he won't see the regular warmth held within them. "Please," Newt rasps. The anxiety within him triggered the fight or flight reaction, and Newt wants to fight back, but whatever is left of his rationale in his fear-addled brain is telling him that's a terrible idea.

Newt forces himself to stay still, even if he's breathing rapidly and his heart is pounding in his chest. His eyes are beginning to tear up, but he doesn't shed them.

Percival watches him for a moment, his eyes traveling over Newt's face before his expression almost imperceptibly softens. It's as though a sudden awareness washes over him. His face shifts from confused to bewildered to something Newt can't name. Percival draws back slowly, with hesitant steps, and he drops his wand to the floor, his eyes wide.

Newt allows himself to move off the wall, though none of his tension dissipates.

Percival continues staring, frozen, before his eyes drop down to his fallen wand and back to Newt.

"Oh god," he says, taking another step back. "Oh god, oh godー" he runs his hands through his hair looking back up to Newt. "Oh god, I'm so sorry."

Percival's eyes water as he's still in some odd, shocked state.

Newt can't keep his breathing under control. His chest rises and falls rapidly. Was Percival actually going to harm him? Would he? Newt can't muster up words to even accept or acknowledge Percival, he's stunned, frozen in place while his heart still beats rapidly.

And then, suddenly, Percival lets out a sob.

Newt's never seen a tear shed from Percival before, let alone seen him cry like this, with tears streaming down his face as his body shakes with shuddering cries. It's as though Percival has lost all control of himself.

Seeing Percival cry in such a way moves him out of his paralyzed state, and his heart gives a pang of sadness, despite him not understanding what's happening anymore. But more than that, Newt's bewildered. Stuck in place.

Despite Percival falling against the wall, sliding down it while sobbing, Newt doesn't move.

His mind races a million miles a second. Percival clearly regretful of his actions, with the way he struggles to take in air through the cries, but it's like what happened in the alley all over again. Percival wasn't in a state like this after he grabbed Newt by the collar and pushed him against the fence. He didn't cry like his life was breaking apart.

Something more is happening.

Newt wracks his brain with determination, trying to push away the still lingering fear.

'For god's sake, Newt, I'm trying to protect you,' Percival had said a week. Implying people are out to harm him? That people may hurt him?

Newt closes his eyes, trying to reign himself in. He takes an unsteady but deep breath, then crouches down next to Percival, who's slowly gaining control of himself again. Percival's face shines in the light with tear tracks, and his eyes are closed as if facing the world is too difficult in this moment.

Newt reaches for his shoulder with a shaky arm. At his light touch, Percival opens his red-rimmed eyes, meeting Newt's gaze.

"Please, Percival, this can't keep going on. I can't keep up with this anymore. I need to know. Areー are you being blackmailed?"

Percival leans his head back against the wall, his eyelids fluttering shut to stop another onslaught of tears. He shakes his head.

"I can't tell you," he says miserably, as though he longs to tell Newt but something is blocking the words from leaving him.

"Percival, please, you're scaring me. Youー you made me fear for my safety only minutes ago. I can't deal with all of this anymore: the nightmares, the nights spent alone, the lies, the secrecy, fearing not only my own safety ut yours too. I'm falling apart. I feel as though I'm on this ledge... and one more push and I don't know what I'll do with myself if I fall off. This all needs to stop."

Percival opens his eyes again, but he doesn't make eye-contact with Newt.

"Please," Newt implores him. He can see how close Percival is to cracking.

"I'll tell you," he says, wiping away a stray tear quickly.

Newt breathes out slowly. Relief courses through him steadily, soothing his rapid heartbeat and shaking hands.

"Just give me a week. One week and I'll tell you. I promise."

"I don't trust your promises anymore, Percival."

Percival finally looks him in the eyes again. "My word is all I can give you. I need time. Please, just give me a week."

Newt watches him for a tell. Some indication he's lying again. But Percival remains steadfast and sturdy, his eyes remaining focused on Newt, not a single movement made. For a second, Newt's reminded of the man he met in the underground of New York, nearly more than a year ago. The same man who Newt fought beside, trusting him to be sturdy and to have his back.

"O-okay," Newt agrees. He moves his hand off of Percival's shoulder and backs away, giving Percival space. "One week. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry for following you. And for telling Tina. I was lost and lonely. I- I still am, really. Ever since I've come back to New York, nothing's been right. I need you back, Percival. More than ever," Newt says, leaving his face open and vulnerable; this feels as if it's his last plea.

"I'm right here with you. I don't know how to express how sorry I am. About the things I've done to you. I don't feel like myself anymore. There's this terrible anger that's been eating me up. It's consuming me and I'm so afraid of it. I promise I'll tell you everything. I'm just not ready yet."

"As long as you tell me. I'll be right here."

Newt stands up on still shaky legs, holding a hand out for Percival. Suddenly, he's struck with the thought that his dinner is still sitting on the table, forgotten and cold.

Percival takes his hand, propping himself up. He then wraps his arms around Newt, enveloping him in a tight hug, griping at him as though he's his lifeline. It's unusually affectionate for Percival. But Newt falls into the physical comfort easily.

"I'm sorry," Percival says in a whisper.

This time, Newt believes him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If all goes according to plan and anxiety™ doesn't get in the way, the last chapter should be up this Wednesday evening (North America time)
> 
> And to everyone who left comments last chapter, you mean everything to me! <3 I think terribly of my own writing, and I swear I almost cried reading some of the comments because I didn't think I'd get the response I did. <3


	3. Love is Blindness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to have this up a few hours earlier, but hey, at least it's still Wednesday!

Two days after Percival agreed to tell him everything, Newt finds himself at dinner with Percival in a fancy wizarding restaurant.

Life continues as it had before, with Percival being out late, never providing more explanation other than saying it's work. Newt tries not to mind. After all, Percival is going to tell him in only a few day's time ー not that it will make everything okay. But at least then Newt will know, and then he can help. A heady and overwhelming fear envelops him whenever he thinks about Percival's upcoming explanation; whatever it is, it has to be terrible to cause the man to break down into sobs. Even now, while they sit in a beautiful restaurant, Percival's tenseness undermines what would be a nice date.

"Newt, do you know anything about obscurials?" Percival asks casually, taking a sip of his drink.

Newt pauses in his effort to cut his steak.

Memories from Sudan flood his mind a whirlwind of smoke and pain. He doesn't like to think back to the terrible fate of the Sudanese girl. What became of her was terrible, and if he could rewind time to one moment, he'd go back to save her. If only to remove the image of her lifeless body from his mind and the terrible fate she suffered. She didn't deserve to die. She was only a girl.

"Newt?" Percival presses.

"Why do you want to know?" Newt finally replies. He looks down to his steak. Suddenly, food isn't appealing anymore.

"The attacks going on around New York have no explanation. There's no trace left behind of whatever's doing it aside from the presence of magic. At MACUSA we've been scouring through every possible explanation. Obscurials came up, but there hasn't been one in hundreds of years."

Newt shakes his head. "You mean there hasn't been one in America for hundreds of years. Only four years ago I... I came across one in Sudan. An eight-year-old girl. I tried to help but I- I couldn't. She died. It takes a terrible amount of suppression to form an obscurus. And you think there's one here in New York? How would that even be possible?"

"I think it may be linked to the Second-Salemers, to the woman who preaches the anti-magic sentiment. But the problem is, there's so little research done about obscurials. Is there a way to identify them?"

Newt shakes his head. "They'll look like an ordinary child."

Percival sighs, closing his eyes briefly. "No sign at all?"

"Not until it's too late. They become sick quickly, then they pass away due to the obscurus overtaking them."

"Merlin," Percival says. "That's terrible."

Newt nods, absently playing around with the food on his plate. "I think about that little girl a lot. I wonder if I could've saved her, if she could've lived the rest of her life if I realized what was happening faster."

"You can't dwell on that. To expect yourself to realize she was an obscurial, something rarely mentioned in books, is expecting too much. All the same, I'm sorry. I'm sure that was a terrible experience."

"It was. But I keep her in my memory every day."

Percival nods solemnly.

They push their food around on their plates and take a bite occasionally. A long silence follows the conversation. Newt looks out the window, watching the occasional muggle bundled up in winter clothes pass by.

"And how's your book coming along?" Percival asks suddenly.

Newt moves his gaze back to Percival and sets down his fork, done with eating for the night. "I'm nearly finished," he answers. "Though, in light of recent events, I want to write about their ability to recognize pain in humans and their ways of comforting those who need it. You see, when I first got the letter about..." Newt hesitates. He still tears up any time his mother's death comes up, and he hates that he does, but Percival waits patiently for him to gather himself. "The letter about my mum's death, the niffler saw the pain I was in and presented me with one of his treasures in a way to try and cheer me up."

"Really? That's quite interesting. I can't see him willingly giving up anything he hoards," Percival's lips curve with a touch of humour.

Newt gives a small smile back. "Yes, he's been quite helpful lately. Though... I hope you don't mind if I leave him behind when I have to go to the funeral? I'm not sure I trust him not to do anything, and I can't deal with that while I'm home."

"You never told me when the funeral is?"

"Oh, right. Theseus mailed me three days ago. It's December first. It's a little more than a week away," Newt says quietly.

"I'd come with you but..."

"You're busy? I thought that'd be the case, so I didn't ask. Sorry. I should've at least talked to you about it."

Percival shakes his head. "No. I can't blame you for not asking me."

It's then Newt takes notice of how drawn and taut Percival is. How he sits completely still, his shoulders tense. Worse is his face, ridden with dark circles under his eyes and stress lines. Hell, there's even the beginning of stubble growing along his jaw in a dark shadow. In their time together, he was never anything less than clean-shaven.

"Still, I should've at least made mention."

"Don't worry yourself about it." Percival waves him off.

Newt relents, sitting back in his chair, continuing to move his fork around his plate without actually picking the food up. Percival watches him move the food around aimlessly for a minute. He sighs and calls the waiter over with a wave, paying the bill in a hurry.

"Let's just have a nice night at home," Percival says.

"I'd like that."

____________

Three days pass after their dinner. Another mysterious attack happens in the city and Percival has little time to be home again. When he is home, he makes no mention his breakdown, nor does he carry with him a hint of worry for whatever it is he'll be telling Newt. He's gone back to the same Percival he'd been before the breakdown, with only the cold distance between him and Newt fading away.

Newt finds that he can live with that for another two days.

When Percival is home, he gives Newt the causal affection that had been missing for three weeks. They hold each other while they sleep, he asks Newt about his day if he's awake when he gets home, and they kiss goodbye in the mornings.

It's as close to normal as their lives had been before Newt left to South America for three months, minus Newt's worrying for whatever Percival is going to tell him come week's end.

To take his mind off the end of the week, Newt ends up spending a lot of his time with the Goldsteins in the evening. And just like Queenie requested, he brings over his case and allows Queenie and Tina to see the inside.

"You did all of this?" Tina asks, her eyes going every direction in wonderment. Beside her, Queenie stares at the creatures in pure fascination.

"It took a while, but it was worth the end result," Newt answers.

"What are these ones?" Queenie asks, pointing to the occamys.

Newt quickly moves Queenie's hands away before one of the occamys snap at it. Queenie gasps and jumps back.

"It'd probably be best if you kept your hands to yourself," Newt rushes to say, looking sheepish in the face of Queenie's shocked expression. "They just hatched and they're very protective of their shells. And, to answer your question, they're called occamys."

"Oh. They're very pretty," Queenie remarks, finding her footing again. Her warm eyes take in the creatures carefully, almost appreciatively, as she steps a bit closer again. This time more with more caution.

Newt nods with a smile. "Yes, they're highly desired in India. Mostly for their vibrant colours."

Queenie takes in his words while she continues to look around with wide and curious eyes while Tina explores the rest of the case with careful and slow steps. Newt allows himself to finally relax as he gives them a tour of his case.

"Newt?" Queenie asks with a concerned tone when Tina has gone off wandering. Newt internally freezes. He thinks he knows where this is going.

"Are you doing alright?"

"Yes, quite fine, thank you," Newt says shortly.

A short silence passes. Queenie bites her lip. "It's just thatー well, I can tell how anxious you are. And with what I brought up at the dinner table last week, I just wanna make sure you're okay is all. I'm worried about you."

"Thank you for your concern Queenie, but I really am fine."

Queenie continues to stare at him for a moment longer. Finally, she gives him a small smile. "Alright," she says, "but I'll always be around if you need to talk."

Newt turns his back to her, tending to the occamys. He lets out the smallest of sighs, glad to be spared a conversation concerning Percival. It's obvious Queenie knows what's happening; it's impossible to block her out. His Occlemency skills aren't strong enough for that, especially with how powerful of a Legilimens she is.

"Queenie?"

"Hmm?" She replies.

Newt turns to face her again, struggling to meet her eyes. "Say someone you love is keeping a secret from you, and you can see how that secret is tearing them apart, but they refuse to admit anything -- how would you deal with that?"

Queenie frowns, her face turning puzzled. "It's not a problem I have to deal with," she admits, looking down. "I can always read someone's thoughts. But I'd like to think I could persuade them to tell me if I tried enough. But Mr. Graves isn't the type of fella to give in easy, huh?"

Newt tenses. He supposes it was only a matter of time until Queenie gave up the pretense of ignorance. "He's really not. He's agreed to tell me at the end of the week, and I can't help but worry it'll be something terrible."

Queenie worries her bottom lip in thought. She meets Newt's eyes and gives her best sympathetic smile. "I'm sure whatever it is, it's more than likely related to his work. Being the Director isn't some lightweight job. He's not an easy man to read ー but whenever I do catch his thoughts, there's a lot of stress running through him, especially with the mysterious attacks and one of his aurors missing."

An auror had gone missing? Percival and Tina never mentioned that.

Nonetheless, a weight lifts from Newt's shoulders. Somehow, Queenie always knows exactly what to say. She may be entirely right. Perhaps, all this time, Newt had been building whatever Percival had been doing up into this dark storm cloud when in reality it could all be the stress of work getting to the man.

Yet, somehow, that feels like wishful thinking.

Newt doesn't have time to deliberate when he hears loud and frantic footsteps.

"Is there supposed to be a storm happening in the thunderbird habitat?!" Tina yells.

Newt blinks owlishly. "No," he replies quickly, moving past Tina and Queenie without another word. There most definitely shouldn't be a storm going on.

Newt runs to Frank's habitat frantically, scared that something is wrong with Frank. As Frank gets in eyesight, there's nothing visibly wrong with him. He's agitated, moving about nervously, but there's nothing wrong. This must be some sort of foreboding warning ー thunderbirds are able to sense danger.

Newt frowns, feeling the beginning of worry curling up in his stomach.

Queenie and Tina run in behind him, both looking as though they expect answers.

"I think something's wrong. Outside, I mean. I don't know any other reason as to why this would be happening."

"Meaning there's a storm outside?" Tina asks, puzzled.

Newt shakes his head. "No, something worse."

________

Outside, it's dark and chilly, and the city screams with the groaning of steel and falling buildings. Worse, muggles run about in every direction as New York slowly descends into absolute chaos. Newt and Tina share a look, their eyes wide and jaws unhinged with shock. Behind them, Queenie gasps aloud.

"What could this be?" Tina asks.

Chunks of buildings are just... gone. _Destroyed_. But what did it? No sort of creature had that sort of destructive capability aside from dragons, but as far a Newt's concerned, this is definitely not the work of a dragon. No, it's something else. Something magical.

"I-I think I know," Newt says. "I can't be sure. I need to see it first."

Tina and Queenie stare at him, their bodies tensed the same way his is. With the mass amount of destruction, the muggles that must've died in all the chaos, their world's been irrevocably exposed. There's no coming back from this, no possible way they can Obliviate the entire population of New York before the news can spread. It's the end of their life as they know it.

"Follow me," Newt shouts, holding out his arm for Tina and Queenie to grab onto.

With a wave of his wand, their bodies are taken to the top of a building with an obnoxiously bright billboard. The sounds of falling bricks and screaming amplify ー Newt takes a look around and his theory is confirmed; an obscurial.

The smoky cloud of the obscurial surpasses the size of the one he saw in Sudan by nearly double. The way it screams and writhes about while staying in one place confuses Newt. Upon further inspection, he sees someone on the ground talking to it.

"Tina, we have to get up close!"

"It's an Obscurial!" She exclaims with wide eyes. Are you sure we should get close?!"

Newt nods. "There's no other way to stop it other than calming it."

Tina takes a deep breath in, squaring herself. "I'll have your back. Queenie, stay here."

Without waiting for a response from Queenie, they Apparate to the street together. Chunks of rubble cover the cobblestone and muggle automobiles are turned over onto their sides. There's shouting, and Newt shivers.

_He knows that voice._

He and Tina move closer to the shouting with cautious steps, his skin crawling with dread.

He recognizes the voice before he sees him.

It's Percival.

Tina runs forward in a rush of anger before Newt has time to reach out and stop her.

"Graves!" She yells, her voice taking on a dangerous and angry edge Newt's never heard from her. Whether the anger is on his own behalf or personal, Newt doesn't know.

Percival turns sharply, his wand drawn and pointed at Tina. The obscurus jumps away now that Percival's attention is diverted, and it flies off to wreak further destruction. Newt needs to follow it ー he needs to catch it so that he may save its host before it's too late. He'll be damned if another young witch or wizard passes away from the affliction before he can cure them.

"Tina, you're always turning up where you're least wanted," Percival shouts, his eyebrows and mouth scrunching for form an angry snarl.

The words paralyze Newt.

This isn't the Percival he knows, this isn't the man he fell in love withー and Tina. Merlin, Tina doesn't deserve that, not after all the good she's done for him, for Credence, and for anyone else she's helped along her career as an auror.

"Stop whatever you're doing, Graves, before it's too late!" Tina yells back. Newt hears the anger and hurt in the way her voice wavers. He thinks, for a moment, that perhaps she's only trying to reason with Percival for him.

Percival is less than moved. He snarls again, and sends a spell hurtling toward Tina with a wave of his wand.

Tina manages to block the wave of frenetic energy with a shield, and steps back in what's likely surprise. Newt isn't sure, though. He can only see her backside.

Percival attacking his friend is the last straw; it's enough to coax Newt out from his hiding spot behind a fallen automobile, his body shaking with betrayal and fear.

"Percival!" Newt calls, dripping with an edge of anger that's unlike him. He's unused to the way his voice sounds, tinged with rage and dangerous.

Percival freezes like Newt's his reset button, and none of the exchange with Tina had happened.

"Newt," he says quietly, whipping around to face him with wide eyes.

"What are you doing?!" Newt demands.

Percival's eyes flicker from the destruction surrounding them to Tina, then back to Newt. "I'm saving us."

"Saving us?" Newt says incredulously. "How in the blazes is this saving us?! Look around you!"

The street's a smouldering ruin of the quaint muggle buildings that once stood proud and unmarred by the obscurus.

"I'm trying to save the obscurial. I'm trying to stop him so this destruction will end and the attacks will finally be over! Don't you see? I'm trying to protect this city!"

Perhaps the explanation would've made sense if Newt hadn't seen him attack Tina only minutes ago.

"Do you take me for an idiot?" Newt asks. "No, there's something more going on and I'm sure you won't tell me!"

Part of a building collapses behind them with a deep rumbling noise as the bricks fall apart then crash to the ground. Steel groans, and it's a stark reminder the boy with the obscurus is still out there in need of help.

"I'm going to help the obscurus, Percival, regardless of what you say or do. I'm not stopping for anything," Newt says, his eyes steel and his voice steady. He's going to help this troubled child, or he's going to die trying.

"Newt, waitー!" Percival yells, but Newt doesn't catch the rest, his body already in another place.

Atop the roof of a high-rise building, Newt can see the pattern of destruction and where the obscurus is heading. Newt focuses in on it, willing himself to another rooftop, then another and another.

Newt follows the smoky cloud of destruction until it reaches the subway entrance at town hall, where it enters underground and dives out in a flair of energy. There, at the entrance, Newt sees someone walking down the steps.

Newt watches closely, cautiously.

In the subway, pieces of the obscurus float above him, covering the ceiling in some weird movement, almost like it's receding.

Newt follows the moving smoke to its source, and finds a boy curled up against the wall by the tracks. Upon getting closer, Newt realizes that it's no boy. No, _it's Credence_. The boy Percival had been talking to in the alley, the boy who lives with a mother whose core beliefs are that witches and wizards deserve to die; that they're the work of the devil.

The fact that Credence is no child, that he has to be somewhere in his late teens to early twenties, doesn't fly over his head. It only adds another puzzling piece to this whole situation.

"Credence," Newt says gently. "I'm here to help you."

Credence makes no effort to untangle from the ball he's curled up into.

"Whatever happened, whatever's wrong, I can help you," Newt says softly.

Credence untucks his head from where it'd been buried in his arms, and he tentatively looks at Newt with eyes that spell a tale of pain and misery.

"Credenceー"

The noise of Apparation comes from behind him, and Newt stops himself. Whoever's entered the station needs to be told Credence isn't a threat anymore. Credence looks up to above Newt and he whimpers, tucking his head back in as he shakes and smoke begins to emanate from his body.

Newt sharply turns around, and Percival stands on the platform above them, his body tense.

Everything connects together in his mind.

"What did you do to him?" Newt seethes.

"Nothing."

"Don't lie!" Newt shouts, surprising himself as his voice carries throughout the tunnels. "Please, for once, just tell me the truth! Tell me what you said you would, and maybe it's not too late to fix things!"

Percival opens his mouth, but no words come.

"Y-you were fighting Tina! You've likely hurt Credence! Tell me, because I don't have any patience left, Percival!"

Percival stays firmly rooted to his place across from Newt on the platform, throwing quick and frenzied looks behind him to Credence, who's coalescing slowly into a human-like form again.

"Please, Newt, if there's any time to ever listen to me, please do it now. You have to leave. Go somewhere safe, far away from here. Forget about me, forget about New York, go home to your family."

"Leave?!" Newt repeats incredulously. "I'm not leaving Credence with you, nor am I leaving without explanation. So you can tell me now, or..." Newt trails off. ' _Or you'll have to make me leave_ ,' he doesn't say.

Nonetheless, Percival catches what he means. He closes his eyes momentarily, as if steeling himself for what's to come. Newt's heart picks up further in pace. After all that's happened, he's no longer sure Percival won't hurt him if pushed far enough. He anxiously grips his wand tighter, furtively glancing at Credence while Percival remains unmoving.

"Take Credence and go," Percival finally states, saddened beyond Newt's comprehension. "I can distract my aurors for long enough."

Newt's eyes widen. _Percival intends to sacrifice himself for Credence?_ Something isn't adding up ー a piece of the explanation is missing. And Percival just expects him to leave after everything? It isn't happening.

"What part of I'm not leaving until you explain don't you understand?" Newt asks, standing firm.

"I don't have time to explain, please!" Percival pleads with frenzied eyes, his entire being tense.

Newt takes in the desperate behaviour with confusion and frantic thoughts. Maybe Percival truly cares about Credence after all, and he wants Credence to get away in time? No, that doesn't seem right. But time is running short and a decision needs to be made in a snap.

Newt hurries over to the huddled form of Credence in the shadows of the subway, his heart hurting when he hears the whimpers. Tucking away his concerns for Percival, Newt kneels down to Credence's level.

"Credence, we have to go," Newt says. "I'm not here to harm you. I'm going to take you somewhere safe." He makes himself as open as possible, leaving the emotion he feels plain on his face, and his body language open. Credence doesn't look up at him, but the remaining smoky tendrils of the obscurus dissipate. It's progress.

Then, the popping sound of an Apparition permeates the silence of the subway, echoing off the tiled walls. Godー have the aurors made it already? Is it too late? Newt shuffles closer to Credence, drawing his wand out from his coat. If he has to protect Credence with his life, then so be it.

"Well done, Percival," A smooth, accented, and confident voice says instead.

Newt spins around to get a look at the newcomer.

A man with white-blonde hair stands beside Percival in smart clothing, clasping his shoulder. An exuberant smile crosses his face when he notices Newt staring at him. Newt forces himself not to cower beneath the piercing, mismatched eyes. Something about this man screams danger and power. _Darkness._

Unconsciously, Newt shifts closer to Credence, gripping his wand tighter than ever.

"Ah, finally, Newton, we meet. I've heard so much about you."

Newt jolts. How does he know his name? How does he know Percival? Does this have something to do with the nights Percival has been absent? Is this why Percival was desperate for them to leave? There are too many questions and Newt doesn't have the capacity to think them through with the way adrenaline is coursing through him.

In the end, all Newt can do is stand tall between this man and Credence.

The man in dark robes narrows his eyes, and Newt feels he should know who he is, but his identity is escaping himー

"Percival, I thought you didn't want him involved with any of this?" The man says.

Percival, for once in his life, looks scared. He stares at Newt with pleading eyes, asking for Newt to leave the station, to get to safety. But it isn't in Newt's person to abandon someone in need of help, nor is it in his person to throw Credence to the wolves.

"I didn't. I don't." Percival finally states when Newt doesn't move.

The man pauses for a moment, thinking through something. "I see."

Newt racks his fear-addled brain as hard as he can, trying to remember how this man is so familiar. The hair, the eyes, they're such striking features, Newt remembers butー

Wait. When he spoke earlier, Newt picked up on his German accent.

No.

_Nonono._

A horrible realization washes over Newt like a bucket of ice-cold water being poured on him. He's chilled to the bone, goosebumps forming on his skin. It can't beー

The man with the manic eyes is Gellert Grindelwald.

The same man who incited terrorist attacks, murders muggles for simply being muggles, who attacks those who disagree with him, who every witch and wizard whisper about with fear. Newt's seen the wanted posters, he's read the newspaper articles, he's heard nothing but _terror terror terror_.

This is the same man speaking to Percival as though they're old friends.

Newt staggers backward as tears cloud his vision. He knows. He understands it all now, and he was a fool for not seeing it much sooner. This is who Percival has been protecting him from, this is who Percival's been meeting at night. The stress, the nightmares, the drinking, it all makes sense! It's all so clear ー Grindelwald has been threatening Newt's life this entire time in order to ensure Percival would do his bidding, which is why he'd been following Credence. Though how Credence factors into it exactly, Newt isn't sure. Perhaps Grindelwald wants to study Credence? Use his power?

Tears fall down Newt's face in quick succession. Physically, he doesn't know if he can hold himself up anymore. His heart is breaking as he breathes, another person he loves is falling away into the abyss ー that Percival would willingly work with such an abhorrent man, that he'd dare hand over Credence, so innocent and ignorant to everything going on, over to Grindelwald, ignites a flame Newt can't put out. He steps in front of Credence completely, putting his body in the way of harm.

"I'm not letting you have him," Newt says daringly, glaring at Grindelwald as tears continue to leave his eyes.

Grindelwald simply throws his head back and laughs. "And what makes you think you can stop me?"

Newt doesn't reply. He simply raises his wand.

" _Newt, please_ ー" Percival tries, his voice wavering with warning and fear.

"You don't need to explain anymore, I get it. I know you're working with Grindelwald."

"To protect you! I'veー"

"I didn't ask to be protected!" Newt yells with tears streaming down his face. "I would've given my life if it meant none of this had to happen, that you wouldn't work with this man and Credence would be safe! I never wanted any of this!"

Grindelwald snarls at Newt, cutting off Percival before he has the chance to say anything. "Enough of this. Percival, I gave you your chance to protect him, but it seems you've failed in that matter. Now move, Newton, or I'll make you."

Newt shakes his head, gripping his wand tightly. "I won't let you hurt him," he states. A tear falls from his eye down to his chin and he can't stop shaking.

He feels sick. So sick that he wants to disappear from the world. His heart's been broken too many times that it feels shattered beyond repair.

Taking on Gellert Grindelwald is the most foolhardy thing he's ever done, but he'll be damned if he doesn't try. Credence deserves better than to fall into the hands of a psychopathic dark wizard, he deserves to experience magic the way it should be experienced; to be used purely ー not to destroy the world. Even if Newt feels his life's over, Credence deserves a chance.

Behind Newt, Credence shuffles, standing up. He looks at Newt with awe.

Then, in the blink of an eye, Grindelwald sends a hex hurtling through the air towards Newt. Newt dives out of the way, grabbing onto Credence and taking him to the ground with him, not having enough time to summon a shield charm for himself. Behind them, the spell strikes the pillar with a crack and tiles go flying.

Newt has no time to recover or gather his bearings before Grindelwald sends the next spell. He manages to Apparate away just in time, hiding away in the shadow of a pillar, mentally trying to prepare himself as he angrily wipes away the rest of the tears on his face. Somewhere else in the tunnel he hears Percival trying to calm Credence, who's now raging around in his obscurus again. Anger wells up in Newt because all he can think about is Credence's whimper upon seeing Percival.

"Surrender now, Newton, and I won't harm you. I'm sure that Percival will appreciate it," Grindelwald says loudly. Newt can hear him stalking closer towards him by the way gravel crunches beneath his boots. "He did spend all this time looking out for you, after all."

Newt closes his eyes, trying to gather himself. Percival's saying something to Credence across the tunnel and the obscurus is calming down.

Newt's running out of time to save Credence.

With a huff, Newt turns from his hiding spot and wordlessly tries to disarm Grindelwald. As expected, Grindelwald deflects his spell with complete ease, as though Newt's nothing more than a pest to be brushed off.

Newt anticipates Grindelwald's next move, and he disappears then reappears to another spot in the tunnel.

Grindelwald appears next to him unexpectedly, his eyes gleaming with malice. Newt jumps. He shields himself a weak and frenzied wave of his wand. Grindelwald tears down the feeble shield as though it means nothing then blasts Newt onto his back, his head making a sickening crack as it connects with the gravel behind him.

Newt tries to defend himself, but his head spins and it's not enough in the face of Grindelwald's raw power.

Grindelwald advances, his wand raised threateningly. Newt shuts his eyes. If there's one regret he has now that he's meeting his end, it's that by losing to Grindelwald, Credence has a terrible fate ahead of him, and likely an early grave if the obscurus isn't removed.

A blinding flash of white bursts from Grindelwald's wand and connects with his body, turning Newt's world into one of pain as his body convulses and shakes with the electricity coursing through it. He clenches his jaw, managing not to cry out. It's the last bit of defiance, the last part of himself he can hold onto, as Grindelwald tortures him.

There's another strike, then another, and another, each consecutively worse than the other. It builds and builds until the electricity slackens his muscles and he can no longer keep himself from crying out in pain.

Newt tries to look up, and he's met by the sight of Grindelwald smiling in a twisted sort of glee. Instantly, Newt regrets looking. The visage of blue and brown eyes staring back at him are burned into Newt's memory, and he wants to meet his death with a more pleasant sight in mind.

Grindelwald electrocutes him again, this time Newt screams unwillingly, his body burning in pain.

"Stop!" Percival yells. "Stop, or I'll kill the obscurus!"

Grindelwald lowers his wand immediately.

Newt looks up from his position on the ground, his body protesting with sharp pains as he does so. Percival holds onto Credence, who's unconscious and slumped in his arms, free from the tension that plagues him when awake.

Percival himself is resolute. Every part of him is a mess, from the way strands of his hair fall into his eyes to the rumpled and dirty clothes he wears. His eyes gleam with unshed tears and his expression errs on madness. He's truly a desperate mess, so different from the first time they met in the tunnels a year ago. That Percival had been his saviour ー but the man standing in front of him now... he may as well be Newt's undoing.

Though surely Percival wouldn't dare kill Credence...?

But he _did_ go as far as to work with Grindelwald to protect Newt. Why would this be any different?

"Percival don't," Newt pleads in a raspy and pain-ridden voice.

Grindelwald lowers his wand slowly. The way he glares at Percival chills Newt to the bone. He's more desperate to possess Credence than Newt originally thought.

"There's no need for this, Percival." Grindelwald steps closer. "Give me the boy, and no further harm will come to Newt."

Percival takes a step back further, struggling to support Credence's dead weight.

" _Percival_ ," Grindelwald utters in warning.

"Your promises mean nothing. You said so yourself, only weeks ago. Why am I to believe you now?"

Grindelwald glares. He's caught, and he fumes at the fact. A man such as Grindelwald tolerates no infringement upon his ego ー and Percival is making Grindelwald's entire being shake with rage that's barely kept under control, just under the surface ー a rage ready to spring out and destroy everything in its path if Grindelwald chooses to do so.

Percival's playing with fire, and Newt thinks Percival knows it too. These are the actions of a desperate man ー a man who Newt is only now realizing can't be dissuaded. A man who would go as far as to work with Grindelwald just to save him.

Newt stands up on wobbly legs, his muscles spazzing at random as he forces himself to his feet.

Neither Grindelwald or Percival pay attention to him now that he's standing up. Before Newt has the chance to surprise either of them, Grindelwald sends an arc of lightning directed straight at Percival and Credence.

With a roar, the obscurus is awoken again.

Tina runs in behind them, crying out in shock as the obscurus wreaks havoc in a smoky ball of destruction. 

Newt pulls himself into a single-minded focus as the world becomes chaos.

________

With Grindelwald defeated and the city obliviated, Newt finally has room to take in a shuddery breath for himself. Every part of his body burns, so sensitive that the brush of clothes sends a jolt of pain. Nothing feels right, and the world may as well be over for him, as far as he's concerned. Credence is dead and Percival vanished, leaving him with nothing but air. The world is empty now. 

Tina comes up to him, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. She quietly guides him back to her apartment, where he spends the night in an odd daze of nightmares and uncomprehending numbness.

________

Three days later, Newt pushes the apartment door open slowly, like it's carrying a weight that isn't present, shivering when it opens wide. Nothing's changed in the three days he's spent sleeping at the Goldstein's. The place is immaculate as always, not an object out of place on the perfectly dusted countertops and shelves.

Stepping across the threshold is as though he's broken a boundary and there's no turning back. It's the first time he's been back since everything happened, and his presence that carries all these terrible memories corrupts the happily made ones within.

In hindsight, he should have been able to see what was happening from the start, but love has blinded him, only allowing him to see the best in Percival.

No sadness comes to him, nor does any emotion. In the place of it all, he's simply numb.

He dares not touch anything. Instead, he sets about gathering his possessions into his case.

Newt had planned to gather his clothes and maybe a few other possessions, but discovers there's a lot more than his clothes that need to be taken with him. For one, the photo of his family still lies on the side table, and then there's his books, magical trinkets, and art collected from his travels. The apartment is a lot emptier by the time he finishes.

For one last moment in the apartment, to give him the closure he sorely needs but won't be getting, he takes hold of the whiskey sitting plainly on the counter and takes a large swig. He takes his usual seat at the table and nearly slouches over.

The whiskey tastes absolutely horrible and he doesn't bother with more of it. He leaves it left open on the table.

Newt closes his eyes, trying not to be overwhelmed a chapter of his life has come to a close so swiftly and so terribly. Never could he say he foresaw this outcome when he agreed to live with Percival in New York.

The only good to come of this it that his father and Theseus will be overjoyed to hear he's coming back to England ー especially after their mother's untimely death.

Newt isn't quite sure he can stand coming back without her being there, but he has to go to her funeral. It's a little more than a week away, and Newt's no longer sure if he'll make it in time upon a boat.

Theseus and his father are sure to hear about the incident in New York, and Newt doesn't know how to deal with the questions and sympathy he's sure to receive ー Newt doesn't want to think about Percival anymore. It hurts too much.

Slowly, he forces himself to stand on unsteady feet. Making sure his coat is buttoned, he makes for the doorー

And he's stopped.

Percival materializes in front of him, effectively cutting him off from the entryway, the only part of Percival's apartment that allows Apparation.

For a moment, they don't move. They only stare.

All Newt wants is to leave for England without trouble. He's gone through too much to deal with anything else.

He backs away first, drawing his wand in a flash.

Percival throws his hands up. "Newt, waitー"

"Why should I? Tell me one good reason why I shouldn't alert MACUSA."

They've been on the lookout for Percival ever since he slipped away at the station, and Newt's sure they won't hesitate if he alerts them. In fact, they're still actively searching for him right this moment. They likely thought him to be too smart to come back to his own apartment, and yet.

"Because I can explain."

Newt _laughs_ , it's a sharp and biting thing. Now, after all that's happened, Percival wants to tell him? "It's much too late for that," he states. The pain Percival left in his wake is fresher than Newt thought, and is difficult to leave out of his voice.

"Please just hear me out. At least for your own closure if nothing else."

Newt shifts anxiously. He did come back to the apartment for a sense of closure, but he's past listening to Percival's lies and empty words.

"Why should I believe you? All you've done since I've come back is lie. I have a funeral to get to anyway," Newt says, then picks his case up with a huff, determinedly ignoring the fact that MACUSA's now number one most wanted is standing in a room with him. He considers telling Tina, but waves the idea away. Percival has nowhere to go anymore; does it really matter if he's in a cell or on the run? Either way, the future for him is lonely, and Newt knows the sting of being alone better than many.

Newt brushes past Percival, not hesitating in his steps.

"I'll show you my memories."

Newt stops.

There are no ways to fabricate one's memories, only ways to leave out bits and pieces.

"All of them?" Newt asks, turning around.

Percival nods. "You won't like what you see, and I can't promise you'll be content after seeing them, but... It'll explain everything. So much changed after you left, that I can't even begin to describe. Just, please. This is all I can offer."

Against his better conscious, Newt steps forward. Despite it all ー he still wants to understand everything that went wrong. Learning Percival had been working with Grindelwald had been a revelation, but it left other pieces of the story to wonder about.

"Show me," Newt says quietly, stepping back into the room. He sets his case down and then looks to Percival.

Percival appears as though the weight of the world's been lifted from his shoulders. He sighs deeply, then closes his eyes.

"Go ahead, use Legilimens. Look for anything," Percival says, his face open and honest. He looks more tired than Newt's ever seen, which is a statement of itself considering the past month's events.

Newt raises his wand to Percival again, this time like it's heavy, carrying a weight that isn't actually present.

"I-I'll start at the beginning?" Newt asks, unsure of what he's about to subject himself to.

"August."

Newt nods. " _Legilimens_ ," he says.

___________

_"On your knees, Graves."_

_Percival glares at the man standing before him, defiant in every way possible. He spits blood at Grindelwald's feet, pride preventing him from fully surrendering to Grindelwald even with the way his body has been rendered incapable of fighting. The sheer number of injuries are too much for him to catalog in the face of Grindelwald's wand. All he knows is that his leg may be broken and there's this fierce pain that continually ebbs through his head, and there's blood dripping into his eye._

_Even then, he will not go willingly._

_"That was not an option. Get on your knees," Grindelwald repeats._

_Percival remains standing in place and steels his will, accepting his fate._

_Grindelwald narrows his eyes in return to Percival's defiance, stalking closer to him._

_"You're defenceless. You've lost. There's no point in resisting anymore."_

_Grindelwald's oddly affixed with getting him to follow his commands, Percival realizes. Perhaps it's a statement to his ego, to the power complex he possesses. He wants Percival to kneel before him in proof he's the superior wizard ー that he beat the Director of Magical Security. It's a statement enough he isn't attacking Grindelwald now, he thinks, but clearly isn't enough for Grindelwald._

_Grindelwald slashes his wand downwards in a smooth, precise motion. Percival can't help it as a weight forces him down with speed he can't control. He cries out as his knees hit the stone with a crack. His leg he could barely stand on explodes with pain, and he can no longer think straight. His head is dizzy, and the world's blacking out._

_Grindelwald grabs a handful of his hair and forces Percival to look up at his face._

_"Much better," he smirks, and the world goes black._

_____________

_Percival sits in the corner of some stone room, paler than usual. His one leg is laid out gingerly, and dried blood stains the side of his face._

_Grindelwald stands overtop him, his wand held casually in his hand._

_"You should've been more careful, Director. A man in a position such as yours parading around your loved one is never a good idea. Unless... you truly thought you were too powerful for it to matter?"_

_Percival clenches his jaw and Grindelwald smiles, catching onto the tell._

_"But you weren't powerful enough, were you? That's why we're sitting here, that's why I'm having this conversation with you. I could keep you here until Newton arrives home, I could keep your face, pretend to be you, how would you like that?"_

_Percival visibly struggles to not react, and Grindelwald takes note of it._

___________

_Pain and more pain — nothing but the blinding, horrifying, numbness of pain. Thoughts scatter. The world turns into disorienting sensations until he loses who he is._

__________

_The next string of memories is a lot of nearly one-sided conversations in which Grindelwald gives speeches and arguments augmenting his own beliefs._

_For the most part, Percival tunes Grindelwald out. And what's strange is that Grindelwald lets him. However, sometimes Percival is intrigued. He tries not to show it, he pretends he's not listening, but Grindelwald can tell by the way he doesn't intermittently make protests or counter-arguments._

_The problem is, Grindelwald makes sense, and Percival doesn't have the capacity to think otherwise, the way his brain is addled with pain; the way he fears for his life, for Newt's, and for the hope of rescue that's dwindled down to nothing but disappointment and sadness._

_Nobody noticed he's been replaced, and Newt won't be back for a while yet._

_Slowly, he falls, and he barely fights his descent._

___________

_It is not him that has changed, once Grindelwald releases him, it's the world around him._

_He manages to act as if nothing's different, as if he hadn't been kept captive in a dark basement for nearly two months while someone else pretended to be him. He becomes bitter to those around him. He sees the law in an entirely new light, feels the unfairness Grindelwald's pointed out, and snaps at those who dare question him._

_Then, one day, Tina Goldstein breaks the law. Percival's never been more proud ー Tina always did impress him with the way she rose through the ranks quickly, and with her quick and sharp instinct. Outwardly, he has to fire her. He has to act as though she didn't do something right, all so Grindelwald can continue to use him and his position of power._

_It's the first time Percival's had a thought of resistance against Grindelwald since he's been released._

_________

_Newt comes home, and with him, brings back light and warmth Percival hadn't realized he'd been missing._

_But his life doesn't sort itself with the return of Newt. Instead, it worsens. Grindelwald demands he find some child with immense power, and suggests the Second-Salemer boy, Credence, may know something._

_"I do hope you find the child," Grindelwald says. "If not for the Greater Good, then for Newton."_

_Percival knows a threat when he hears one._

_He doubles his effort in finding the child all the while, he attends meetings with Grindelwald and his followers._

___________

_"This is the auror that's been keeping tabs on you?"_

_Percival nods. The man sitting on his knees with his hands bound behind his back shakes violently, trying to keep his whimpers to a minimum. It's the duty of an auror to stay composed upon capture, but there's no protocol on what to do if you're captured by your boss and the man he's supposed to be hunting._

_"Michael Louis, sub-par marks from Ilvermorny, barely graduated auror training, unremarkable in every way," Grindelwald says in a bored tone, reading through the man's file. "Twenty-four, unmarried and without children, nobody will miss him, and beyond a routine search, nobody will care enough to find his body."_

_Tears spring from Michael's eyes and he shakes his head in denial. "Mr Graves, please! Don't let him do this!"_

_Grindelwald laughs while Percival stands still, trying to remain impassive. As much as he's become embittered towards his aurors, this man barely had a chance to live, only to meet a premature end simply for doing his job correctly. It's all 'for the Greater Good', Percival reminds himself._

_"My dear boy, Percival won't be letting me do anything. You'll be facing your end at his wand."_

_"What?" Percival spins around to look at Grindelwald in disbelief_

_It's the first time he's blatantly resisted Grindelwald in the open._

_"I believe you heard me clearly, Percival."_

_Michael sobs upon hearing Grindelwald. Realizing that Percival will not save him, that he's not going to uphold the law, that he's not the white knight everyone knows him to be, breaks Michael._

_"Please please please," Michael begs uselessly, tears streaking down his face._

_Percival hesitates, keeping his hand at his wand by his side instead of raising it._

_Taking an innocent man's life is so very different from taking a dangerous criminal's. Just thinking about extinguishing the light from a man who looked up to him, who'd maybe once trusted him, makes Percival sick._

_"I can't," Percival confesses, his heart racing._

_Without warning, Grindelwald hits him across the face, causing him to cry out in surprise, caught off guard._

_He takes a step back and his cheekbone aches terribly where he was struck. He's sure a bruise will form quickly._

_"Need I remind you of the consequences if you fail to listen?"_

_Percival shakes, ashamed and sick, scared out of his mind by what he's being made to do. And he'll make no mistake, he's going to do it. Not doing Grindelwald's bidding is as good as murdering Newt._

_It's Percival's choice ー and either way there are consequences._

_He'll forever remember the sight of Michael's destroyed expression when he raises his wand._

_Later that night, he comes home with blood upon his clothes and a bruise staining his cheekbone in black and blue._

__________

_"It been two months, Percival, and my patience is wearing thin. You have yet to find the child and people are beginning to catch onto us."_

_Grindelwald paces back and forth, agitation made obvious by his furious face._

_"You have one week left," he says._

_________

_Credence calls him with Grindelwald's necklace late one night, an hour after the ICW meeting, the eve the no-maj senator was murdered. Percival, in all his anger, desperation, and fear, mistakenly hits Credence, who he doesn't realize is the obscurus until it's much too late._

_He tries to reign in Credence, but it's all too late. Everything falls apart in one swift blow the moment he hears Newt call his name amidst the chaos._

________

Newt rips himself out of Percival's mind, falling to the floor with a surprised cry. He stares at Percival with wide eyes, horrified beyond expression, his mind caught in a whirlwind of thoughts.

"Why didn't you tell me?! Why? I can'tー" Newt begins to breathe rapidly, dancing over images of an auror being murdered, Percival being tortured, Percival turning, the horrifying glimpses of Grindelwald's methods of trying to take over.

Percival ducks down to comfort Newt, but Newt jerks away.

"Don't touch me!" He shouts.

Percival backs away quickly.

"Y-you murdered someone! IーI don't even know where to... _why_?!" Newt says, unable to coherently voice his own thoughts.

"It was that, or Grindelwald would've taken my place again, and would've had free reign to do as he pleased. Worse, he would've pretended to be me around you and could've done God knows what," Percival tells him, still down at his level on the floor, watching Newt with eyes that say he's sorry, but also speak to a level of vulnerability.

Newt had just watched him be tortured, after all. But he also thinks that Percival is waiting for something. Forgiveness, possibly.

"You should've told someone, we could've helped you!"

"I didn't want to. I thought he had all the answers, that he was right about the separation of wizards and no-majs. I only realized while he tortured you in the subway that I was wrong ー that he's a psychopath. I knew he had a sadistic tendency, but... I never realized he was so terrible."

"Never realized he was so terrible?! Are you listening to yourself right now?" Logically, Newt understands Percival's way of thinking has become warped due to Grindelwald, but it doesn't stop him recoiling from the words.

The nightmares he suffered from make sense to Newt now. The memories explain why Percival never suffered from them until Newt came back to America, why Percival drank a lot, why he never came home at night. Worse, the night he came bloody made terrible sense to Newt ー why he pushed Newt away, why he appeared to be mentally anguished, it was because he murdered an innocent auror.

Newt has his closure, but he's no longer sure he wants it anymore. Sometimes, the truth is better left to die in the dark.

Not knowing what to do with the revelations, Newt stays still on the floor, unsure what to do next. He still has to catch the boat or he'll never make it to his mum's funeral. Though, if Percival will let him leave or not is an entirely different matter.

"Newt, come with me. We'll explore the world and document creatures. There's nothing left for me here in America. I know I've wronged you in countless ways, but I swear to you, I'll make it up to you."

Newt stands up and frowns at Percival.

" _No_. I have my mother's funeral to go to. I know you may not care, but her death destroyed me, and I would very much like to see my family again. I will not be hunted to the ends of the earth with you ー you chose this path, not me. You chose my life to be worth more than everyone else's but I never asked for that. I would've sacrificed myself to save Credence, to save that auror you murdered. I was never given the chance. These are the consequences of your choices because you _chose_ to be selfish with love."

 _And I was blinded by it_ , Newt chooses not to say.

"Newt, please, I have nothing left without you." No job to fall back on, cut off from his family's money, his clothes tattered, Percival is the opposite of his dignified self, and Newt feels the smallest inkling of pity start to form. 

He doesn't even know if there can be forgiveness for Percival, but everything he feels towards him hasn't died ー not quite yet ー though it's been cut away and muted ever since Percival crossed the line of what Newt considered to be unforgivable by a mile.

And yet, Newt's always been prone to caring for the broken and helpless. Not to say Percival is helpless, but the way life extinguishes from him upon Newt's rejection is certainly a form of it. It's as though he's given up on life.

Newt shakes his head, feeling himself tear into two. "Percivalー I... I don't know. I've had enough. I can't deal with this, not after everything that's happened. I have to leave now, or I'll miss the boat. Ifー if we see each other again, maybe then I'll have an answer for you. For now, goodbye."

Newt leaves without looking back.

_______

A year later, after attending a funeral, finding Credence half alive in his case, and publishing his book, he encounters Percival again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY FOR SUCH AN ANGSTY ENDING BUT PART TWO WILL BE UP IN A WEEK OR TWO DON'T MURDER ME JUST YET. I just need to edit it, but prepare for bitter exes™ and a lot more angst, before we get to the happiness! 
> 
> Sorry about the part where I cut away rather suddenly during the underground train station scene. I didn't want to re-do the movie and didn't know how else to go about it. +++ there may be mistakes everywhere because I didn't have my friend look over this chapter and I'm super tired. I will go back and edit them out eventually. 
> 
> To everyone who left comments on the previous chapters: I love you with all my heart ♡(ˆ⌣ˆԅ) !!


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